


All the Dead Lie Down

by Imogen_Penn



Series: All the Dead Lie Down [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, I honestly can't think of any other tags that are going to be relevant after Zombies..., Zombies, beardy!steve, because zombies, except that there is a lot of violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-10
Updated: 2014-05-15
Packaged: 2018-01-04 06:04:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 46,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1077453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imogen_Penn/pseuds/Imogen_Penn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was not death, for I stood up<br/>And all the dead lie down.</p><p>- Emily Dickinson</p><p>The world has ended, but it wasn't everyone that ended along with it. At least not yet.</p><p>(Complete: May 15, 2014)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Confidence

**Author's Note:**

> Sooooo....I wrote a zombie epic. I don't even know guys. It just happened. Blame slash insane gratitude to Katertots and nessismore for chearleading, support and keeping the spoilers to themselves :)

"No one can confidently say that he will still be living tomorrow." - Euripides

+

+

She stood at the window. The sun was just coming up over the mountains. Something to the east was still smoldering, had been for weeks; must be burning through a gas main. The smoke cast a hazy yellow glow across the horizon in the thin morning light.

If you squinted a bit, ignored the broken windows and didn’t look down to the chaos of debris on the streets, from this high up you could almost imagine that things were normal. She could almost imagine a steaming mug of coffee between her cupped hands, the smell of bacon and eggs…

The proximity alarm started beeping.

Darcy sighed, turning to the line-up of hastily wired LEDs. The green one on the far left was blinking sluggishly. She should look for new batteries. And something was up in the parking garage. Probably nothing to worry about, but the trip wire was going to need to be reset and this sort of run was good practice for the others.

She tiptoed quietly into the living room where three teenagers were sleeping, sprawled out on the expansive sectional sofas.

Say what you will about the zombie apocalypse, she thought ruefully, but it made for killer rent on penthouse apartments.

Unfortunately, even this high up with twelve floors below them cleared wasn’t enough to make a person feel safe anymore. Especially not a person with her limited resources and immense responsibilities.

Three sets of eyes were blinking up at her over the back of the sofas, alert and awake. Apparently it wasn’t even enough to make these kids feel safe enough to sleep through the soft beeping of the alarm.

Little things hit her hard, sometimes. She hated that they had learned to wake up ready to fight. They should be rolled up in their beds, hollering at their mothers for five more minutes.

She swallowed past the lump in her throat and smiled reassuringly.

“Just the parking garage,” she whispered, not wanting to wake the others still asleep in the apartment’s three bedrooms.

“Michael, you’re up.” She said, feeling nauseous like she did every time she took one of the kids outside the relative safety of the apartment. “Katy, Jack, will you keep watch? Let the others know where we are when we wake up?”

They nodded solemnly, all three pulling themselves upright.

Michael crawled reluctantly out from under his blankets but walked purposefully to the rack of weapons by the door. He strapped a blade to his belt – they all slept in their clothes these days – and buckled a handgun in a holster to his hip.

Darcy picked up the long barrel rifle she favoured and bumped him encouragingly on the shoulder. “Ready?”

“Ready,” he said with a determined focus.

“Alright, you take the lead,” she said, taking a firing position facing the door.

Blade drawn, Michael turned the line of locks as quickly as he could and pulled the door open. With efficient movements he stepped into the hall, looked right and left, and called “clear”.

“Lets move out,” said Darcy, “Katy?” she turned to the 15 year old who had moved up behind her.

“Got it,” she said.

Darcy moved out the door and heard it close and the locks flick behind her.

They made it down 12 floors without incident to the makeshift gate they had wired across the stairwell once they had cleared the floor. It wasn’t as secure as she would like it, but it was wired up to motion sensors and it had to be mobile. 12 weeks, 12 floors. Another 13 weeks and they’d have the whole building secure. God only knows what they’d do when that was done, but she couldn’t think about that now, or the fact that even canned food went off eventually, or that their rainwater stores were dangerously low.

No, she was going to focus on teaching Michael and the others what skills she could, keeping them alive, and clearing 13 more floors.

“Okay,” she said, taking a deep breath and channelling what she remembered from every stone cold SHIELD agent she had ever known, “you know the drill. We’re hitting the unsecured floors. All the stairwell entrances she be blocked, but we never trust that, right?”

“Constant vigilance,” said Michael with a sloppy salute and a grin.

Darcy rolled her eyes but said “wands at the ready,” and they shimmied under the gate.

They made it almost down to the second floor before a broken window somewhere let in a stagnant breeze and the smell hit them in the face. Only moment later, they heard the raspy groans and shuffling of a walking corpse.

The walkers weren’t particularly good at climbing stairs, which Darcy wasn’t about to call a blessing based on the state of the world, but at least it could be worse. The thing coming towards them moved as if by accident, every so often its uncoordinated motions brought it upwards.

It had seen them now though, and was starting to get a bit more energetic. Whoever it used to be, they had clearly died in the first wave, almost four months ago now. It had hit that point of decomp that none of them ever really seemed to move past, and the clothes hanging off of it were nothing more than stinking dirty rags.

“Lets not waste bullets,” she said as they paused on the landing. “Clean and quick, right at the temple.”

Michael nodded, looking a bit pale, but he gripped his blade, and moved forward slowly and deliberately.

They had learned early on that the dead tended to mirror you: if you tried to get sneaky and unpredictable, you usually ended up dead from something like a sneaky and unpredictable bite to the ankle. But if you were slow and predictable, they don’t actually predict but they move slower, so it generally worked out better all the way around.

Case in point, Michael was able to cleanly plunge his knife into to walker’s temple without the thing making so much as one good lunge. It crumpled to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.

“10 points!” said Darcy in a hushed cheer, feeling genuine pride in Michael along with the slight tinge of nausea that still hit her every time, even though she knew they weren’t people anymore.  “This was probably the asshole that woke us up this morning, but we’ll do a quick sweep while we reset the alarm.”

Michael blew out a breath, “Out into the garage?” he asked shakily.

“Out into the garage,” Darcy said steadily, “it’s gonna be fine. It was good and clear when I came in yesterday. Only one of the sensors at the fence went off. Can’t be too busy, right?”

They pushed through the broken door into the fenced in area of the garage. A couple of walkers on the far side turned and began sluggishly pressing against the fence, but they were too far off to be any concern. She could see the problem off to their right. The fence had never been meant to keep much out. It really just set off the resident parking from the rest. A loose panel had fallen in, probably because a few of the dead had piled up against it. She had seen it before. You get more than a couple moving in the same direction and they couldn’t seem to turn around. Only one of them seemed to have found a way in, probably through the long, skinny broken window next to the door. There were four more milling around in the fenced in area, but they had heard the door open, and weren’t milling anymore.

“Alright,” said Darcy, giving Michael’s arm a reassuring squeeze, “what’s your plan.”

“My plan?” the things weren’t moving too fast, probably because they were standing still, but Darcy was still itching to move. She held her position though. Michael needed to think this through himself.

“Your plan,” she nodded.

“How many knives d’you have on you?” he asked tentatively.

“Good idea,” said Darcy. “Let’s say I only had one I could throw without leaving myself unarmed. Which one?”

“Farthest,” Michael pointed to one of the dead.

Darcy pulled a small throwing knife off of a row strapped to her thigh, balanced it carefully in her fingers, and flung it. She wasn’t really a great shot, but you didn’t need to be at about 15 meters. The farthest walker went down with a thud.

“Next,” she let a bit of the tension in her voice seep out, they were getting too close to let Michael take his time.

“Split ‘em up and take em down,” Michael suggested with only the barest hint of a question.

“Good plan,” Darcy grinned, “go!” They ran away from each other to opposite corners of the fence. The zombies picked up their speed, but they split, two following Darcy and of heading after Michael.

She didn’t wait until they caught up with her, instead turned and brought her arm around, knife swinging in wide arc until it found its first target. The second one went down moments later, her blade flashing in and out in a blur.

She looked up to see Michael looking ever so slightly triumphant over his own target.

“Victory dance?” he called over to her in a low town.

“Victory dance!” she called back.

It was important to enjoy the little things.

They made short work of wiring the fence back together and re-setting the alarm and then made the exhausting trek up to the penthouse without incident.

“Darcy,” a hushed chorus of whispers greeted her as she walked back in.

Everyone was up then.

Seven nervous faces bleeding slowly into relief looked up at her from the table. Seven ten year old kids who shouldn’t have to worry about whether the only adult left in their lives was going to make it back every time she went out.

She forced a smile, “morning everyone,” she said as she closed and locked the door behind her and Michael, “did you guys get breakfast?”

“Yep,” Tess chirped, followed by Danny’s sour morning face with “Beans.”

She laughed in spite of herself, “that’s what the brits eat for their breakfast Danny-boy, so you’re basically the Queen.”

There were upsides, sometimes, to getting stuck with a group of seven grade school kids and three teenagers when the apocalypse hit. Mostly the crushing, awful responsibility of it was what she felt, but sometimes they were still just _kids_ , and that made her feel like maybe she was doing okay.

“Alright team,” she said standing at the head of the table, “who’s got KP today?” three little hands shot up, “and who’s on garden duty?” two excited hands waved in the air, they loved the rooftop garden, decorative greenery long since replaced by vegetables. “And who’s on patrol?” the last three hands went up with much less enthusiasm.

She still felt conflicted about that. Part of her wanted to keep them all safe and sheltered up here for as long as she could, but she knew it couldn’t be forever, and as the weeks marched onwards, rescue was looking pretty much impossible. And this was the world they lived in now. One ten year old on watch in the apartment, two more out patrolling the top floors, practicing how to properly work with a partner to move around corners and clear a hallway.

“Katy, Michael, you’re in charge today. When chores are done, school’s in session, right?”

“Right,” they echoed back.

Well, she could still hold out some hope that reading, math, and history would still be valuable to them, right? If nothing else, it gave them all something to do all day.

“Jack,” she looked at the other teenager, “we’re going out.”

Jack was 17, tall and lanky but starting to grow into his height. Darcy knew she put too much on him, but he was the closest thing to another adult that she had. That plus the fact that he had crazy paintball and FPS skills from Before meant that he came on supply runs with her.

Hell, he probably was better equipped than her with her childhood growing up familiar with guns out on the farm and a crash course in crisis survival that SHIELD had made her take after Puente, but he didn’t have whatever it was that made people take charge, take action when the shit hit the fan.

Apparently, Darcy did.

“Okay, let’s roll through the last of the supplies at that corner store and then I think we’re going to need to hit something in the mall.”

Being stuck in a big city wasn’t as bad as zombie movies before they became real life would have you believe. A lot of people with money got out fast when the airports were still open and this whole thing was a rumor that only people with enough money to act on paranoia believed. A lot of the people stuck in the city died really fast, close quarters and panic. It meant that there were a lot of supplies available. Darcy was pretty sure they were the only living people in their city block. There had been a small group one block over, but she hadn’t seen any sign of them in weeks.

Moving through the silent city streets, they saw a few small groupings of walkers, but were generally able to just avoid them rather than take them out. They cleaned out the last of the supplies left in a corner store they had cleared and locked up last week, then they shouldered their half full packs.

 “Okay,” said Darcy, standing at the door and looking down the street to the glassed in entrance to the downtown mall. “Let’s head for the main entrance. Hopefully if we can stick to the well-lit areas around the atriums, keep good visibility. We’ll stick to the stores with easy exits.

“The mall, Darcy? You were serious about that?” Jack raised an eyebrow.

That was the downside of being caught in a big city. Not many living people, hordes of the dead. The mall wasn’t a _bad_ instinct for hiding out, lots of supplies, but also lots of people and too much street level glass to be defensible.

It must have been a massacre when it was hit.

“Yes, the mall, seriously,” she said in a no nonsense tone, “There’s probably one of the only untapped Wal-Marts left on the west coast in there.

Jack looked a little bit terrified, but he put on that cocky grin that was coming easier and easier to him that made Darcy worry a bit more every time she saw it. “Punk Rock,” he said, and led out down the street.

They made it in without much trouble. There had been four or five walkers milling around at the entrance, but they had taken them out efficiently and without much noise. Walking around the edge of an atrium, they could see dozens of the dead shuffling around on the lower floor. Poor bastards had probably thought it would be safer down there when they were alive, but there were no exits.

“Darce,” Jack pulled her up short by the straps of her pack, his voice a harsh whisper in her ear. She froze, following his arm to look to the edge of the throng of the dead down below them. There was something happening, they were turning blindly towards something, moving faster, more and more of them shuffling out from stores and other hallways into the atrium they were looking down into.

Then she heard the sound of boots _running_ on the debris strewn floor and a hard to identify sort of high pitched pinging sounds.

There was someone _alive_ down there.

She looked ahead of them, the Wal-Mart was just up ahead. There were only two of the dead between them and the store, plus however many were lurking inside of course, but she could see the aisles of canned food from here. She looked back down into the atrium. She could see a figure now, running out into the atrium. He had a brace of knives strapped across his back, dispatching the dead with cold efficiency, but he was running out of weapons fast, and the dead just kept coming at him. One person and a knife could take out about 5 of those things in close combat, maybe more if you were very good, but there must be almost 50 by her count, closing in. He certainly didn’t have 50 knives he could throw to keep his distance.

She should just keep moving, let him be a distraction and get what her kids needed. Maybe he’d be okay. He certainly looked like he knew what he was doing, and he looked like he was still relatively healthy. She could see two longs blades strapped to his legs from here, the incoming dead were thinning out and he was cutting through the group around him. She could almost make herself believe it, but the group was closing in too tight and the dead didn’t wait until you were finished with one of them before walking up behind you and taking a bite.

“Ahhhh _shit,”_ she swore with enthusiasm before dropping her pack to the ground, checking to make sure her pistol was strapped tight to her hips, and drawing the two curved blades she wore at her thighs.

“Go fill the packs,” she ordered Jack in her best no nonsense tone. “I’m not here when you get back, you take what you can and you go home.”

“Darcy,” said Jack in a careful tone, “I don’t think…”

“No argument Jack,” she said firmly. “That’s a person down there. What if it was you or me?”

Jack clamped his mouth shut, his jaw clenching tightly.

She smiled at him, and reached out to wrap a steadying hand around his arm. “Things may be messed up, but we’re still humans, right? We do what we can.”

“Right,” he said, forcing a stiff smile, “I’ll see you in a minute.”

Darcy didn’t look back at him, because otherwise she might not go, and whoever the guy down there was, he was losing ground fast.

She took a deep breath, rolled her eyes upwards for a moment and said “you _owe_ me one,” to whoever might be listening, and jumped up onto the rail of a long since broken escalator.

She skidded down the metal bar and jumped to the floor with a crunch of broken glass and debris. She could see the man in the centre of the horde notice her with a blank sort of shock, but the swing of his arm didn’t even break. At least he wasn’t panicking. She nodded curtly at him, and began cutting her way through the mass of the dead towards him. Slow and deliberate as they turned towards her, one after the other, breathing slow and even to not let the shoulder to shoulder line of walking dead terrify her into making a mistake, eyes flicking back to make sure they weren’t behind her.

By the time she made it through to the man at the centre, the ranks were thinning, probably only a dozen of the things left. There was a clear hole behind her and plenty of fallen bodies making obstacles for the dead still trying to move towards them. They could make a run for it, they were going to be okay. The man raised his eyebrows at her as she moved in beside him, striking out at an aggressive specimen getting a bit too close for comfort. She must have been a sight. Close fighting like this always meant an unpalatable amount of gore.

But that wasn’t it. He tilted his head towards the few remaining walkers as if to say “ladies first”. She rolled her eyes, but he had a point. Better to leave the place clear than count on being able to make a clean run for it.

She wearily stepped in front of him, moving slowly towards the remaining dead, watching her steps carefully for biters on the ground. Wasn’t more than a minute between the two of them to finish off the rest.

They stood almost shoulder to shoulder, breathing heavily as they waited to see if more would come. But there was only silence. Darcy let the iron tension in her shoulders drain just a bit.

“So,” she said, turning to the man beside her, “you come here often?”

It wasn’t much of an opener, but witty repartee after almost dying was a lot harder than the movies made it look.

“First time,” he said with a tight, sharp smirk, “don’t know if it’s really my sort of place.”

Darcy grinned. “Darcy Lewis,” she shoved her blades into their sheathes and stuck out a hand.

“You’re shitting me,” he said in a shell-shocked tone.

“Uh, no?” she dropped her hand, looking at the man warily. Under the grime and gore and a week or so of scruffy facial hair, now that she looked, he _did_ look a bit familiar.

“You were at SHIELD for a while weren’t you? Working with Foster?” he went on intensely.

“…yes….” She stared at him, searching through all the faces she remembered there. She couldn’t imagine why she wouldn’t remember him more clearly, with blue eyes like that.

“You never met me,” he said in answer to her unspoken question, “but I was there.”

“You were SHIELD?” she asked, getting a bit excited in spite of herself. This was _way_ less likely than running into a grade school friend on vacation or something and, given his skillset, probably way more useful.

“Sort of,” he said, “the one nice thing about the end of days? It’s actually kind of nice not to be recognised.”

She peered at him closely; the beard was obscuring his jaw line, and his eyes were a more tired and dulled blue than they should have been, but the number of faces at SHIELD that would actually be identifiable to anyone who they left alive was very very small, and it hit her pretty quickly.

“Holy _fuck_ you’re Captain America!”


	2. The Hourglass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes; and in death, as life, unblessed,  
> To have it expressed,  
> Even ashes of lovers find no rest.
> 
> \- Ben Johnson (The Hourglass)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Immense thank yous to nessismore for actually wading through this thing for typos, meri for talking me off character development ledges, and Katy for all her enabling even though she's not really into zombies :)

“Holy _fuck_ you’re Captain America!” she exclaimed, louder than she should have.

“Well there isn’t exactly an America left anymore, is there,” he said in a matter of fact tone, wiping gore off his blades and sheathing them, “and I never would have recognised you,” he said, turning to start pulling throwing knives out of corpses and return them to the brace on his back, “you’re different. A lot more lethal.”

She supposed he was probably right. Four months of post-apocalyptic living and fighting for her life had carved her down to her essentials; leaner, stronger, a hell of a lot dirtier. And she had hacked off all her hair with a machete pretty early on. It wasn’t something she really liked to dwell on though.

“Can you really call it being lethal if they’re already dead?” she asked with a smirk.

He raised an eyebrow and looked up at her “I suppose not,” he conceded.

Any further comment was forestalled by Jack’s low whistle from above, “Darce,” he called down in a low voice, “that’s gotta be a new record!”

They walked over towards him so he didn’t have to shout.

“Can’t take credit for it sadly,” she gestured to the Captain. “Jack, meet Captain America.”

“You are _fucking_ with me!’ Jack swore, his eyes lighting up. “No _way_!” He paused, looking at the carnage behind them for a moment. “Actually, that kind of makes sense.”

“Why?” asked Darcy incredulosely.

 “I think you guys cleared the fucking mall! Not an un-soul in the whole fucking Wal-Mart.”

She looked over at the Captain who was looking up at Jack with a raised eyebrow. She looked over at him. “Feel like going shopping?”

Clean clothes. That was all she could think about. Brand new, untouched, clean clothes.

She brushed absently at an unidentifiable chunk of previously human flesh on her pant leg. “So seeing as I saved your life,” she said to him as they made their way over the dead into the store, “you mind filling a pack for us?”

“Why would you want to do that?” he looked at her sharply, “you two are obviously doing okay with supply raids, even if the kid is a bit green. Why would you load yourself down?”

She paused, but if you couldn’t trust Captain America, then what was the world coming to. “We’re not on the move,” she said, “and we’re not alone.”

He stopped and looked at her with an unreadable expression. “You’re planning to stay in the city?”

She nodded.

His jaw set tightly, but he didn’t say anything, and he found the biggest pack he could in the sporting goods section and went to work filling it. She and Jack ran around the almost un-touched store with incredible glee. They joked in soft voices about bringing back a 48 inch plasma TV, they held up clothing options in front of each other like anyone still cared about fashion.

Darcy was personally of the opinion that no one had ever cared much about fashion in a Wal-Mart before either, but Jack was grinning at her like kid rather than a killer, so she went with it.

The Captain, however, was silent and hard. He moved efficiently through the aisles of food, picking things that were light, non-perishable, and easy to open. There was a muffled crash as he balled his fist up in his jacket and broke through the locked case surrounding the weapons.

That was pretty much the worst thing about being stuck in Canada in the zombie apocalypse; guns were a hell of a lot harder to come by.

She thought about making the joke as they gathered their heavy packs on their backs to make the trek home, but he wasn’t looking at them, and his grim expression didn’t look any different now than when he had been fighting for his life in a sea of walking corpses.

She was beginning to think the propaganda machine had seriously misconstrued his personality.

This impression was only reinforced as he hung back when they turned the last corner into the alley way behind their building, sweating and breathless from their run across town with the heavy packs (well, at least she and Jack were) and found six walkers directly between them and their way in.

The damn things had caught wind of them before they pulled up to a stop too, so they were clambering towards them a hell of a lot faster than Darcy would like. She dropped her pack at once, knowing without looking that Jack was doing the same.

Captain fucking America, though…when she looked back at him he was just watching her intently, eyes narrowed and appraising, his pack firmly in place.

She had saved his fucking life and he was still going to stand there and watch as she took on a fight that she hadn’t actually chosen to throw herself into?

Well, fuck ‘im. He could do whatever the hell he wanted.

She pulled a small blade from the six that were strapped down the front of her thigh and took one out with a straight shot to the eye socket. It very helpfully collapsed sideways, tripping the dead man immediately behind it. Four on two was much better odds.

Of course, that was taking for granted that Jack wasn’t going to do something stupid and show-offy in front of Captain America like run at the things, swinging wildly.

He managed to take down one, getting far closer than he needed to shove his blade up through the jaw of the closest walker; a huge mean thing, 300 pounds if it was an ounce. But he didn’t get his blade out in time and the whole weight of the now lifeless corpse was bearing down on his arm and the other three were closing in, ignoring Darcy for easier prey.

She swore under her breath, leaving the fallen walker who was struggling to get up and running for Jack. One of them had him by the arm now because the idiot was still struggling to pull out his knife. Darcy unsheathed a curved blade at her hip and in one smooth motion cut through the wrist that was locked around Jack’s.

“Drop the goddam knife Jack,” she cut at him as she turned, bringing her blade back around to crunch through the temple of the now one armed enemy. Jack pulled himself together just in time to cut through the last walker as the other slid off Darcy’s blade and fell to the ground with a thud.

She could hear the one that had fallen now on its feet and moving closer behind her, but as she whirled to cut it down, it fell open mouthed and gargling to the pavement, one of the Captains knives in its forehead.

“I _had_ it,” was the first thing she thought to say, harsh and stinging in the now silent alley.

“I know,” he said simply.

He had been testing her. She could see it clearly now, because she could tell by the way he was looking at her that she had passed.

She could understand why. She wouldn’t trust some mostly stranger she ran into after the world ended either. Just because she could cut through a pile of walkers when she chose too didn’t mean she knew shit about reacting on the fly.

She could understand it, but she didn’t have to like it. Not when Jack’s life and the lives of nine more kids 25 stories above them were on the line. Didn’t mean she didn’t feel a low thrum of self-satisfaction at passing muster with Captain America though.

Asshole hadn’t even felt the need to drop his pack.

She smothered a sharp grin as she led into the parking garage.

It wasn’t until they were at the barricade up to the clear floors that Darcy stopped and turned to him.

“Just, when we go in, watch your language okay?”

“Watch my _language?_ ” the Captain asked incredulously, “who’ve you got in there, the Queen of England?”

“Seven ten year olds, a couple of fifteen year olds, and me and Jack.” She said simply. It was almost a relief to say it.

“Jesus fucking _Christ_ ,” he swore.

“See?” she said, “Keep that shit to yourself.”

“Fine,” he said tightly, “let’s move.”

She went through first, wanting to prepare the kids for the first stranger they’d seen in months.

She smiled at the chorus of little voices that greeted her as she walked in. They were sitting around the kitchen table, a haphazard collection of books strewn out across it. Katy and Michael were looking a little harried, but she was happy to see that it seemed like actual learning had been going on.

“Brought you guys a little surprise,” she said as she dropped her pack, “ran into an old friend at the mall today.”

The little ones just looked up at her curiously, but Katy and Michael tensed visibly and stared sharply at the door.

“He helped us bring back some extra stuff today,” she said with a reassuring and steady look at the older kids. “He’s also pretty famous,” she pulled open the door and let the two men in.

Jack smiled brightly at the other kids and leaned down to ruffle little Eric’s already wild hair.

Captain America looked uncomfortable.

“Guys,” said Darcy, “this is Captain America, Captain, this is my crew.”

He nodded at them solemnly as they each introduced themselves with wide eyes.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” he said carefully after they were done.  For a man famous for kissing babies and visiting orphanages, he did not look much used to children.

“Captain, are the Avengers gonna get rid of all the zombies?” asked Eric from his spot glued to Jack’s side.

Darcy closed her eyes at the tense silence that followed. She knew that if Captain America was out here on his own, it was incredibly unlikely that any of the other Avengers were alive. She hoped to god he knew better than to say that to a bunch of scared kids.

“Well, we’re going to do our very best,” he said with a remarkable degree of assurance that, for the first time, reminded her of the Captain she used to see on TV, but his arm was gripping her elbow like iron, “Can I talk to you for a minute?” he asked with a pointed look.

“Sure,” she said evenly, “we’ll head up to the roof. Jack, get these little monsters to help you unpack, will you?”

The Captain started pacing the roof the moment they got up there. She could see him taking in their water collection system, the vegetable garden, the faded lines of sidewalk chalk she had found on a supply run.

“What they fuck do you think you’re doing, Lewis?” he finally choked out, “you’re stuck up in the tower all by yourself, with a bunch of kids to look after.”

She felt incredibly affronted, even though she asked herself the same question a lot.

“What the fuck was I supposed to do?” she said hotly, “when the first wave hit I was in the city at a conference. People were leaving, but that was when everyone was in denial about what was happening in Europe, so I stayed.”

She blew out a breath, remembering the lack of information and refusal to believe the truth that had made everything so much worse when the infection hit.

“I was at the art gallery killing time,” she went on. “It was full of school groups. Do you remember that _school_ was still in fucking session?” She closed her eyes, trying to shut out the worst of the memory that still hit in her in high def Technicolor like a brick wall at 100 miles an hour sometimes.

“Everyone was panicking and trying to run for the exits, but that’s where the things were coming from. I grabbed who I could and we barricaded ourselves in one of the smaller galleries. There was…some weird modern art installation with spears. After the first panic died down, it got really quiet.” She paused, swallowing heavily.

“ So when I could finally start thinking straight, there I am with a bunch of medieval weapons, three teenagers, and a group of grade school kids who had just seen their friends and teacher get eaten.” She shrugged helplessly. “That was the first wave, when it still took a while for the dead to come back, before people started turning in minutes.”  She had seen so much of that in the first week, watching from the penthouse as people less careful, more reckless, or maybe just more terrified, tried to make it out of the city. She hadn’t seen a one who’d made it out of sight. She shook her head, refocusing on the Captain.

“We made it here in that lull before the big groups reanimated. And now we’re just trying to make it work.”

He was slumped against the low wall of the roof and watched her evenly as she spoke, some of the cut of his shoulders relaxing inch by inch.

“You did a good thing,” he said finally, “you’re _doing_ a good thing.”

“We’ve been trying. Jack and Katy and Michael, they really help.”

“But it’s all been on you,” he finished pointedly. She nodded, feeling the exhaustion that always lurked behind her eyes creeping up on her.

“You can’t keep doing this forever,” he said. “It might take years, but the food supply in the city is going to run out, you’re dependent on the weather for your water supply, you’re not growing nearly enough to be self-sufficient.”

“I know,” she said tiredly.

“So what was your plan?” he asked tightly.

“Clear the building down to the parking garage,” she said, “We’ve been doing a floor a week. It’s really pretty quiet because people in this building had money. They got out early, called it a vacation. The one time the rich and paranoid got it right, I suppose.”

“Actually,” he said in a matter of fact tone, “some of the bigger resort islands were the first places to be declared total losses, when someone was still keeping track.”

“Ah,” said Darcy, not sure how she wanted to feel about that. “Well, it makes for good training. Katy and Michael help, Jack’s a great shot already. The little ones are learning how to move around carefully, keep good lookout.”

“And when you’ve cleared the building?” he pressed.

She sighed, “I figure that if we can secure the building, improve our water storage and do as much raiding as early on as we can, we can stock up, be safe here until there’s nothing left to raid.”

“And then?”

“If we get a year or two, that’s a year or two of development for the younger ones, a year or two of learning how to fight, how to be careful for all of us. Better odds when we have to hit the road.”

The Captain sighed. “It’s not a bad plan,” he said, sounding defeated, “but you don’t have a couple of years. You don’t even have a couple of weeks. You’ve got a couple of days, max.”

“What?”

“You haven’t been out there, haven’t seen what it’s like. You’re damn lucky you got caught in Canada. Even Vancouver doesn’t have the population density for things to get really ugly.”

“Things were _plenty_ ugly, thank you,” she cut back.

“You haven’t seen a herd yet,” he said in an icy tone.

Darcy paused, trying to process what he could possibly mean by this. It couldn’t be what she thought. But she remembered all the times she had seen small groups, even six or seven would do it, locked into one direction until they knocked down a gate or caught wind of something living. “They…they _herd_?” she clamped down on the tremor in her voice.

“Hundreds of thousands of them,” he said bleakly.  “As best I can tell, they get started in really densely populated areas and they just keep moving. Once a herd gets any kind of momentum, they’ll just keep going until they hit coastline or mountains and then they’ll bunch up until they get a direction again. Tearing apart anything in their path.” He paused, his eyes cutting away from her.

“When things went to shit,” he continued in a lower, harsher tone, “I got caught behind one of the first herds out of Salt Lake City. I’ve been tracking them, moving around it ever since. It hit Seattle a few weeks ago, but started moving north. In another couple of days, it’ll be here. A good chunk of it is probably going to get stuck. There’s too much water and mountains around here for it to move easily. And even if the dead don’t make their way inside the building, which is a big if, things will go FUBAR fast.”

“FUBAR?” Darcy asked dazedly, “ _that’s_ the pop culture reference you go with?”

The Captain blinked at her, “Pop culture? We used to say in the Army back in…”

“Ah,” Darcy interrupted, “Well it’s also a…really weird movie. If google still existed I’d tell you not to google it.” Darcy sat heavily against the wall, feeling dizzy.

He let out an odd sort of bemused half laugh.

“We can’t stay here,” she said finally.

He nodded, absolutely without humor.

“If I hadn’t found you in the mall, I would never have…” she trailed off.

“But you did. And you probably saved my life.” His jaw tightened and he swallowed heavily, “So I’m gonna get you out of here.”

“Captain,” she started carefully.

“It’s Steve,” he interrupted.

“Steve,” she agreed with a nod, “you don’t have to do that.” It was a half-hearted protest a best, but what he was suggesting he take on…

“I know,” he said evenly, “but I’m going to if you stop trying to talk me out of it.”

She didn’t answer, just threw her arms around him and buried her face in his shoulder. It was the first time she had been able to be soft, to let the incredible pressure she lived under get to her for even a moment. Someone else was here to help her. It wasn’t just her dragging one foot after another through the fucking apocalypse.

It was the first time the weight on her shoulders got any lighter.

She felt his arms curl tentatively around her waist. She realised that, being on his own, he probably hadn’t had any human contact since this all started.

That raised another question. She pulled back.

“What happened to SHIELD?” she asked him suddenly.

He paused. He looked like he was carefully schooling the blank expression on his face before he answered.  “Don’t know,” he said shortly.  “I was out on a mission, pretty deep cover so I wasn’t checking in. Following goddam protocol, which means I got left out in the cold when everything went under. I know the heli-carrier went down somewhere over the eastern seaboard and SHIELD HQ was hit just like everywhere else. Haven’t seen any sign of them for months.”

She let out a breath. She supposed that was too much to hope for.

“So where do we go?” she asked, feeling both very uncomfortable and breathlessly relieved not to have to make the decision by herself.

“I’ll take you north out of the city, and then we’ll head northeast. I’ll get you all well clear of the herd. I’m sure you can find a better place up there. The things’ll freeze in the winter, there’s good land up that way in the valleys, and the mountains’ll protect you some.”

“What about you?”

She could see his jaw tick in tension. “I’ve got my own plans,” he said, “but I’ll see you clear of this place before I leave.”

She nodded, but she felt her stomach sink as the weight of everything settled right back on her. This really wasn’t Captain America here to take over and make everything okay. Heroes didn’t exist anymore, and no one was going to jump in and save the world. There wasn’t even much of a world left to save.

It wasn’t his fault that he was just Steve now, wasn’t his fault that anchoring himself to ten kids and one passably competent woman made no kind of survival sense the way things were.

It might be a little bit his fault that he was still a decent man, but not a great one anymore.

Still, the end of the world could change a man. So he probably didn’t deserve the heavy weight of anger that settled in her gut, but she was feeling it nonetheless.

She let out a low breath. “Well, you were right,” she couldn’t help the bitterness in her tone.

“About what?”

“You really aren’t the Captain of anything anymore, are you?”


	3. Nothing is Yours

“Traveling is a brutality.

 It forces you to trust strangers and to lose sight of all that familiar comfort of home and friends.

You are constantly off balance.

Nothing is yours except the essential things: air, sleep, dreams, sea, the sky

\- all things tending towards the eternal or what we imagine of it.”

 

\- Caesar Pavese

 

 

“We’ll use tomorrow to stock up, now that the mall is relatively clear,” Steve said shortly, “and then we’ll head out at sunup the next day.” He was scanning a map of the lower mainland, sitting at the kitchen table in the failing evening light.

“We should be able to find a place to stop for the night up the highway,” he pointed to a gap between residential areas about 20 miles to the north.

“No,” said Darcy flatly, “We can’t do that.” Jack, Katy and Michael were watching them carefully, and had been ever since they had come down from the roof and Steve had announced that they were leaving.

Darcy knew their scrutiny was probably all that stopped a more heated response from Steve.

“Yes,” he said tightly, “we can. It’s not that much of a march.”

“Steve,” she interrupted him, “you may be right; they may be able to physically make it, but have you ever tried to march 20 miles with a bunch of ten year olds?”

“No,” he admitted, “but…”

“What kind of shape do you think they’re going to be in at the end of the day? And how easy do you think it’s going to be to _keep_ them moving at that pace the next day? And the next?”

Steve paused and blew out a frustrated sigh.

“Fine,” he gritted out, “what is your suggestion,” it wasn’t exactly a legitimate question, but she was going to answer anyways, because she did have an idea.

“There’s a car dealership about a mile out of the city on our way north,” she said, pointing out the spot on the map. “If it’s anything like here, it’s probably relatively untouched. We could take the logging roads that go up near the river.” She pointed out the thin tracks that ran more or less the same direction of the highway far to the north. “Plus, it’ll mean we can bring more with us.”

Steve blinked at her for a long moment, clearly trying to find the flaw in her plan. That was just fine with her. As long as they could stay civil it was good to have someone _really_ digging for the downsides. That was how you stayed alive.

“And supplies?” he asked finally.

“I’ll take Jack and we’ll go tomorrow. You and Katy and Michael stay here and do the supply run.”

Katy and Michael, who had never been farther afield than quick hops on their own block, looked tense but nodded.

Steve stared at her hard for a few moments, but she didn’t give him an inch. She knew far better than him what these kids were capable of.

“Fine,” he said finally, “let’s make a list.”

+

+

Later that night, she slipped into the living room from the balcony to wake up Michael for his turn at watch. She found him and Katy, still wide awake, both curled up against the end of the sofa, shoulders pressed together, reading in the dim moonlight coming in through the windows.

“You guys are going to go blind,” she whispered, dropping down next to them.

Michael looked up at her with a grin. “I’m almost done,” he whispered back, pinching the thin crease of pages left in the massive novel.

“Already?” she raised an eyebrow at him, “didn’t I just bring that one back two days ago?”

“S’good,” he said, marking the page and setting the book down.

Katy made a thin and twisted face at her own book. She was only halfway through. “I suppose I won’t really get a chance to finish mine now.”

“Bring it,” said Darcy firmly. “You’ll get the chance.”

Michael smiled, elbowing Katy gently. “Even though you’ll never get credit for it now?”

“Even though,” Katy rolled her eyes at Michael.

“You can write me a book report,” Darcy said to Katy, giving Michael a shove that propelled him to his feet, “I’ll give you an A.”

“Not an A+?” Michael shot over his shoulder as he moved out onto the balcony.

“Always room for improvement,” Katy called after him in low tone, “especially you.”

Michael rolled his eyes at her as he closed the balcony door behind him.

“You two are regular cut ups,” said Darcy with a grin, “you should take your show on the road.”

“Guess that’s happening anyways,” said Katy a bit stiffly.

Darcy smiled at her, as reassuringly as she could, reaching out to give her arm a squeeze. “You know it’s gonna be okay, right?” she said.

Katy shrugged, and the tight line of her shoulders made Darcy’s gut clench.

“Get some sleep, okay?” she said, rolling to her feet and moving off into the kitchen, leaving Katy to stretch out on the couch.

Her smile faded off her face as she watched Michael through the windows, wrapping his arms around himself against the chill night air. He was too thin. So was Katy, and so was Jack, but Michael seemed to wear it with a little less grace than the two of them. He was born to be a scholar, and there weren’t exactly any job openings anymore.

She worried about him. And she worried about how brittle Katy was becoming, and how angry Jack could get. She worried about how long Trish was going to stay cheerful out on the road, and how long before Ben’s grumpiness became too much to handle and how Eric’s allergies were going to act up out in the woods.

She worried where they were going, and when they would be able to stop, and what they would do when the Captain left them alone up there in the north.

And she couldn’t sleep to save her life.

+

+

It was a clear and sunny day when she and Jack set out north at a slow jog.

“So,” said Jack as they skirted around abandoned cars, moving through back streets towards the north end of the city, “that’s Captain America?”

They ducked left into an alley to avoid a small mob moving down the street.

“Not anymore,” she said tightly.

“A little underwhelming without the suit,” Jack agreed, “but I’ll be glad to have him along when we have to get moving.”

Darcy made a non-committal noise. She was very grateful that he had warned them about the herd, and it made no sense to turn down another gun hand, but she regretted giving into that brief moment of relief and throwing her arms around him. Really, it was only going to make it that much harder to shoulder everything herself when he left.

That wasn’t Jack’s problem though, and she refused to let it be.

“We’re going to have to hit the main streets now,” she said, looking up at a bent but still legible street sign, “it’ll take us through the park and over the bridge. The dealership is just on the other side.”

They both came to a sharp stop without either one of them saying a thing when they reached the foot of the bridge.

“Holy _fuck_ ,” Jack cursed enthusiastically.

She didn’t even bother to say anything about the language.

There had clearly been a rush to get out of the city when the virus hit. The bridge was packed with cars. There was still a narrow strip that was clear down the shoulder. People must have still been obeying traffic laws when the first wave swept through. It means that full sized vehicles were not an option for them though.

The real problem was that in almost every window and in a lot of the open space on the concrete, there were the vacant stares and chilling moans of thousands of re-animated corpses.

“Can’t go around,” she said half to herself, “next bridge is too far, we won’t make it before dark. Plus, probably the same scene.”

“We could roof it?” Jack suggested hesitantly. “As long as we can stay high enough and move fast enough we should be okay.”

“Did you see it in a video game once?” she asked sarcastically, “That’s an _insane_ idea Jack.” She paused. “Shit. It’s the only idea, isn’t it? Hold on.”

She pulled out the walkie talkie she had rigged up from a commercially available set she’d found early on with a massive battery pack and super charged range.

She pressed the call button and the red light showing the connection lit up immediately. “Report?” Steve’s voice was hushed and harsh.

“Bridge is jam packed with corpses,” she said, “I’m taking a run over on the rooftops. I’d leave Jack but one vehicle is gonna be useless.”

Jack looked at her indignantly but she just rolled her eyes. “I’m gonna call you once I’m clear. If I don’t, find another way out of the city.”

She clicked off the connection. She could see the red light blinking, Steve was trying to call her, but she didn’t want to give him any room to negotiate out of this. If she didn’t make it, he was damn well going to feel obligated to take care of those kids.

Jesus Christ, what had happened to the world when she felt like _Captain America_ needed to feel an obligation to look out for children.

She shook it off.

“You ready,” she looked over at Jack. It was not the first time they had faced some shitty situations together, but this was probably the shittiest.

And that scary adrenaline crazed grin was back.

“Jack,” she reached out and gripped his arm hard. “S’your head on straight? I need you with me on this. I need to know you’re not going to pull any stupid heroics. I go down, you keep running, right?”

His looked sobered a bit, “yeah,” he said heavily. “But don’t go down, okay,” and she had never seen him look younger.

She squeezed his arm reassuringly. “You neither, kid.”

She took a deep breath and sprinted for the beginning of the mass of cars.

It wasn’t bad, actually. They moved cautiously from roof to roof. If you stayed in the center of the hood, the hands reaching out from inside couldn’t touch you.

The real problem was that a walker standing right beside a car definitely _could_ reach you, and they were bunching closer and closer to the cars as Darcy and Jack moved forward. She could see up ahead that the walkers moving towards the noise of their jumps across the traffic were shuffling and bumping up against doors and bumpers, getting packed in around them, so that what had started out as clear islands were now narrow stretches of clearance where you had to keep moving or one good lunge would catch your ankle.

“Let’s pick up the pace Jack,” she hollered as they crested the bridge and started down the other side. It was pointless to stay quiet now. Every zombie within earshot was already heading for them.

“Where’s our exit route?” Jack called from behind her. She felt a hand brush her ankle as she moved to the next car, and forced herself not to kick out at it but just keep moving. Jack was right, there was a crowd piling up where the worst of the traffic stopped.

“Gonna make a hole then cut our way through it,” she hollered, drawing her hand gun. She paused on the roof of a van, high enough that she was out of reach, and took aim. By the time she had emptied the clip, she had made a small gap and opened them a brief window to make it to the open road beyond.

“Turbo, Darcy!” Jack yelled in a tense voice, “They’re really pressin’ on me!”

There was nothing for it now but to run. She leaped the last few cars at breathless speed, jumping for the gap in the horde and stabbing blindly at anything that moved to close as she sprinted forward. By the time she had gained enough distance to pull back her pace, she could hear Jack breathing hard behind her and she knew they had made it.

“What do you think,” she said breathlessly, “high sco…” she turned around just in time to see that it wasn’t Jack behind her. It was only reflex that saved her, her still drawn blade plunging into the zombies head nanoseconds before its teeth could sink into her arm.

She didn’t even pause to fell the panic of it. “Jack,” she screamed frantically, scanning behind her “Jack!”

“Darcy,” he gasped, running out of the treeline just a few meters past her.

“Jesus,” she said, walking up to him and throwing her arms around him, “don’t you _ever_ scare me like that again.”

“You okay?” he said, pulling back and looking at the corpse behind her.

“Just fine,” she said easily, although she could feel the shaky fear of a close call ready to sneak up on her like it always did. After they got home, she could deal with it. Later.

“Let’s move,” she started off towards the dealership sign, visible not far off down the road. There were a few walkers at the edge of the crowd shuffling after them, but moving too slowly to be any real threat.

Otherwise, it was a clear run to the dusty but unbroken front doors of the dealership.

“Jesus,” said Jack with a certain amount of glee when he tried the doors, “it’s still _locked_.”

She sighed with an amused grin and stepped back, gesturing to him to have at it.

He found a tire iron not far away in the parking lot and smashed all of the four big panels of glass at the front entrance with unholy glee.

“Kids these days,” said Darcy with a grin as she carefully stepped over the shards of glass into the dealership.

The collection of keys wasn’t hard to find. They were also helpfully tagged with a parking spot number. Most beautifully of all, the dealership had about 40 jerry cans of gas stored neatly in their back garage.

“Jackpot,” Jack said with a low whistle as they walked out onto the lot. They walked past the trucks and SUVs, straight to the row of off road models. There was a veritable fleet of ATVs to choose from. They didn’t spend long perusing the merchandise though. They found two four seaters and hitched up camping trailers to both of them, which they loaded down with as much gas as they could fit. They could prioritize how much they wanted to take with them out of the city later.

It wasn’t exactly going to be an easy trip back over the bridge though.

“So what’s the plan,” Jack said over the noise of the engine as they started up the vehicles in the parking lot.

“Drive like hell?” Darcy suggested. Because really, what else did they have.

“Good plan,” said Jack in agreement.

In the end, the trip back wasn’t nearly so terrifying as the trip over. The things couldn’t move fast enough to get any kind of grip on them as they plowed through and they were both fully covered in thick canvass clothing so the teeth that got close didn’t do any damage. Still, she felt shaky and on edge as they pulled into the parking garage. She could see a pile of supplies and pulled up next to them.

She pulled out her walkie talkie and then remembered with a lurch that she had been supposed to call in.

She pressed the button and immediately pulled the thing away from her face.

“Goddamit, Lewis, what the hell did you think you were doing? I can’t _believe_ you’d be so irresponsible…”

“Steve,” she cut in sharply, “We’re back. In the parking garage. You wanna come help us pack up or you just wanna yell some more.”

“Give me five goddam minutes,” and then the walkie flicked off.

“I think he missed you,” said Jack with an incredulous grin.

Darcy rolled her eyes. “How that man survived out there for four months without someone to yell at, I will never know.”

In a surprisingly short amount of time, the door into the building swung open and Steve stalked over to them. He grabbed her firmly by the shoulders, patting down her arms, and turning her around to check her back.

“You’re alright?” he said finally, and Darcy was surprised to hear something akin to worry under his sharp tone.

“Just fine, Cap,” she said as he moved over to Jack who was bemusedly compliant as he got the same once over.

“Then why the _fuck_ didn’t you call in?” he swore.

“Just lost track of it,” she said honestly, “I’m not used to having anyone to call in to.”

Steve did not look impressed.

“Plus,” said Jack, “you almost…” she cut him off with a sharp look. It was really better for everyone if Steve didn’t know how close she had let a walker get to her. It was better for everyone if he thought she was smarter than that.

“Come and take a look at the vehicles,” she said quickly, “We brought back more gas than we can reasonably carry. These things’ll tow quite a bit though.”

“We can probably take about half of that. Enough to get us well up into the mountains. After that, we’ll likely need to be on foot,” Steve walked around the 4x4s and their trailers. “Each of your kids has a pack, as big as they can carry; weapons, first aid, water, and food. Enough for each of ‘em for a week or so.”

“Who decided what they can carry,” she asked him warily.

He rolled his eyes, “I was vetoed by a couple of 15 year olds, Lewis. Is that what you wanted to hear,” Steve said the corner of his mouth quirked up in amusement.

Darcy shot back a quick, “Yes.”

“I was thinking,” he said considering, “that Katy and Michael should drive. You and Jack on one, me on the other, the littler ones in the trailers or where they can fit.”

“They could certainly handle it,” she said firmly, although she was quite curious to know what exactly had changed Steve’s opinion of them so quickly. “And that means our best shots have their hands free.”

“Exactly,” he said with something like approval.

They got their supplies packed and strapped down in short order, leaving just enough space for the people and their packs. Cold weather camping gear was a must. Water was never much of a worry in this part of the world, so they didn’t weigh themselves down with it. Food was a bigger concern. They were going to have to keep raiding as they went, which meant moving from small town to small town all the way north, rather than avoiding anywhere where people used to be. It meant that while it hurt her physically to see the small knives that Steve had insisted each of the little kids wore strapped to their belts now, she knew it was necessary.

They were terrified. They had been even since she had told them that they had to leave. She could see them trying to be so brave about it, though, as she tucked them in that night. She tried not to think about when the next time she could sleep secure, knowing that these kids were safe, would be.

The older ones were stretched out on the couches, not sleeping, but at least trying. Darcy couldn’t bring herself to lie down, even though she could see Steve sitting up on the balcony on watch.

She climbed quietly up to the rooftop, the garden half decimated to keep them in fresh food while it lasted.

“Darcy?” Steve’s voice from the top of the stairs surprised her.

“Sorry,” she stood quickly, “Is it my turn for watch, do you need to sleep?”

“No, I was just…” he stopped, running a hand through his hair, “you okay?” he asked finally.

“Fine,” she said stiffly.

He sighed, “Look, you’re their leader. You’re the one they look to in a crisis. It’s not going to be me. They need you to have it together for them tomorrow. You didn’t call in today. You’ve been shaky ever since you got back. You don’t have it together.”

“Of _course_ I don’t fucking have it together,” she whispered in a harsh and sibilant tone. “I was a fucking _intern_ Steve, not the leader of the Avengers. But the world ended and I had to learn how to kill or die. I found myself with ten kids who look to me _every day_ to keep them alive. One of those fucking monsters was a millisecond away from getting me today and I _didn’t know_ if you’d take care of them. They’ve got no one else. And it fucking _sucks_ that all they’ve got is me.”

Steve looked at her in silence for a moment, “I was going to leave Katy and Michael in charge, head down to the marina and find a boat that worked. We would have taken it as far up the coast as we could and gone on foot from there. I wasn’t going to leave them.”

She let out her breath in a hitched and shaky rush.

“And you didn’t get tagged today,” he said softly. “That’s not an accident.”

He turned, but paused at the top of the stairs. He looked like her was about to say something else, but he shook his head and left her alone with her thoughts.

It wasn’t right away, but she started feeling like maybe she could relax a bit. She let herself shake through the fear and the tension and the adrenaline of the day, and after a while she made her way downstairs and found a place to lie down. She didn’t get much sleep though. Every time she closed her eyes, she thought about the fact that this was probably the last time she would look out over the skyline. The last time she would be able to pretend that she was safe.  

+

+

It was easier than she would have thought to put on a smile and sound excited when she woke up the younger kids. It was going to be far easier for everyone if they could look at it like an adventure.

When they had finally gotten all the kids dressed up in their boots and heavy clothing, they all trooped down to the parking garage. Darcy had some of the younger kids lead out as they moved through the floors. None of the alarms had gone off so it was pretty safe.

“Alright troops,” she said brightly, when they were all lines up beside the two vehicles, “here’s how this is going to go. Eric and Ben and Trish, you’re with me and Michael and Jack.” The three little ones steps a bit closer to the ATV she had her hand on. “Who’s got a good name for our ride?” she asked.

Ben immediately stated, cool as a cucumber, “the Millennium Falcon.”

Well, Darcy couldn’t argue with that. “Alright, the Millennium Falcon it is,” she said, grinning as Michael and Jack exchanged a high-five.

“Sarah and Tyler and Danny and Tess, you’re going with Katy and the Captain.”

Sarah stuck her hand up in the air like a shot “I wanna call it Twilight Sparkle,” she proclaimed loudly.

Darcy bit her lip to keep from laughing at the look on Steve’s face. “Well,” she said evenly, “It is black. And kind of sparkly.”

Steve raised an eyebrow at her, but didn’t protest the name. Instead, he just started ordering the kids into the trailers and packing supplies around them.

When everyone was safely tucked in between the supplies in the trailers, Darcy put a hand on Michael’s arm to forestall him from starting the engine.  “Okay, everyone ready?”

They nodded solemnly.

“We haven’t been out much on the street,” she went on, “so maybe we got a bit used to not seeing the walkers around right?” she didn’t wait for them to respond. “But all you’ve got to remember is that they’re not people, not anymore. That means they’re not smart, but it also means they’re not nice. You see any of them get too close, you draw your knife, right?” they all nodded solemnly back at her.

She thought they were well protected, blocked from reaching hands by the supplies around them, but her heart was in her throat the whole way over the bridge. The kids could see them clearly, grasping maws throwing themselves at the ATVs as they sped through the crowd as fast as they could. Darcy, Steve, and Jack taking out anything they could, Michael and Katy fierce and focused as they sped onwards.

She only caught a few whimpers from behind her, but as they cleared the bridge and made onto an open expanse of highway further up the valley, the breakdown started in earnest. They hadn’t seen any of what the world was really like since that first day. She should have done better, she should have prepared them more.

“Pull over Katy,” she shouted over the wind. She nodded and pulled towards a clear, wide shoulder. Michael followed behind them.

Steve jumped off immediately and ran up to her, “What happened,” he asked sharply, “why did you stop?”

“Lower your voice Steve,” she said harshly, turning to the three kids in the trailer behind her, “Hey now,” she leaned over the supplies and hauled Trish out, “Hey now, you’re alright,” she said, reaching her hand back to grab Ben and Eric, “we’re all alright.”

The kids piled out of the trailers in a rush, shaking legged and reaching out for comfort. Danny ran into one of Steve’s legs and clung on for dear life. For a moment, Steve looked startled. Then Darcy watched as something shifted ever so slightly and he reached down and picked the little boy up.

“Alright,” he called to them in a clear voice. Seven little heads looked up at him in surprise, “I know we’re all scared and upset,” he plowed on a bit hesitantly, but Darcy gave him an encouraging nod. “But you were all very brave, and we’re all alright.”

She could see, now, what had probably made him good at his job before all this. Whether he meant it or not, you just couldn’t help but buy into the confidence in his voice. And scared ten year olds were easy converts.

“Now, I need my team to make it a little bit farther today, do you think you guys can do that for me?” seven little nods followed by some sniffles, and the kids were crawling back into their spots.

She stopped Steve before he got back on the ATV and whispered “Thanks,” under her breath.

He looked at her sharply, “Don’t” he hissed back. “They need leadership, not coddling. I needed them to get back in the trailers, but things have _got_ to change, Lewis. You’re not up in your tower anymore.”

No, she supposed as she climbed back onto her ride and they took off, she certainly wasn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter would have been about a millions times worse without Katy's cheerleading, Meri's excellent comments and beta skills, and nessissmore's nitpicking. You guys are the BEST.


	4. Inside the Bones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks to nessismore for the beta and Merideath for comments and thoughts! And also....sorry....

And there are corpses,  
feet made of cold and sticky clay,  
death is inside the bones,  
like a barking where there are no dogs,  
coming out from bells somewhere, from graves somewhere,  
growing in the damp air like tears of rain.  
  
 - “Only Death” Pablo Neruda

 

She woke up to find that the sun was already up, heating up the inside of the tent to an unbearable degree. She didn’t like it at all, sleeping out in the open in tents. But they didn’t have much of an option when they needed to be on the move. It meant they all had to deal with a little less sleep and sit a little more time on watch.

Outside, the morning air was still chilled. Even though she had been on second watch last night, she couldn’t figure out how she had slept so long, because everyone else was clearly awake and moving. Jack was directing the younger kids in packing up the camp, but Steve, Katy and Michael were nowhere in sight.

She jogged up to Jack.

“Morning Darcy,” he greeted brightly, “sleep well?”

“Why didn’t anyone wake me?” she asked sharply.

“The Captain thought you could use the rest,” he said, “Beside, we got it under control, right team!”

“Right!” seven chirpy voices and sloppy salutes came back at her.

She hauled Jack away a few paces, “They’re _saluting_ now?” she whispered harshly.

“The Captain actually isn’t bad with the kids when he tries,” Jack shrugged, “I suppose that’s the only way he knows to control a crowd.”

“This isn’t _crowd control_ ,” she hissed, “these are _children_.”

“Well,” said Jack hesitantly, “how much does that really mean anymore?”

She raised a sharp eyebrow at him and he immediately backtracked.

“I mean, I get what you’re saying, but what’s the harm? They treat it like a game.”

Darcy crossed her arms, “Where’s the _Captain_ ,” she said sarcastically.

“Couple of meters out in the woods with Katy and Mike,” he said warily.

“Doing _what_ ,” she asked at the look on his face.

“Uh…training, I think….”

Darcy was off like a shot before he could say any more.

“Good,” Steve’s voice carried to her before she saw them, “again.”

She came into a small clearing and saw Steve adjusting Katie’s grip on her blade.

“Steve,” she called out to him, all three turned to look at her, Katy and Michael a bit sheepishly. “Do you have a minute?” he must have read something in her tone, because he dropped his hand and said, “That’s enough for today, go help Jack with the load up.”

They scurried off, looking relieved to not be the subject of Darcy’s glare.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she rounded on him, striding purposefully towards him.

“Getting us a few more hands in a fight,” he said evenly, his eyes angry as he glared down at her.

“Good,” she said and noted with some satisfaction that he rocked back on his heels in surprise at that, “You’ve got far more to teach them than I do and they need to learn it. That’s not what I’m talking about.”

“Well then what the hell is your problem today?” he asked in exasperation.

“Why didn’t anyone wake me up with the rest of the camp? Why was I not part of the plan for today’s trip, and why the _hell_ are my ten year old _saluting_?” She was almost shouting by the time she finished, and she was rolled up on her toes, right in his face.

“Jesus I thought I was being _nice_ ,” he said, “you can look over the trip for today, and I _told_ you those kids need order.”

“How the hell did it become your place to decide all that!” she hollered back at him. “Don’t get me wrong, I am grateful for your help, but you’re not planning to stick around, so that makes these kids still 100% my responsibility, you don’t _ever_ make decisions about their care and security without consulting me. Is that clear?”

He blinked at her. “Look, I’ve just got more experience…”

“I’m not arguing that,” she brought her tone down a notch, “but you can’t just come waltzing through here and put your Captain hat on and then waltz back out. You’re leaving, so I need to be the Captain here. Otherwise what the hell happens to our _order_ when you’re gone?” It had a bit more of the fear and the weight of uncertainty of the future than she would have liked, but it was the truth.

“What good is it if you’re in charge if they don’t _make it_ …” whatever ego driven comment he was about to make was cut off as three walkers stumbled out of the woods, no doubt drawn by their yelling. The conversation was over for the moment as Darcy drew her blade and moved swiftly, striking the first one down with spare efficiency and swinging her arm around to catch another on her backswing. Steve had dispatched the last corpse without some much as rushing.

They could hear more rustling further off in the woods.

“We gotta go,” said Darcy shortly, wiping down her blade.

For once, Steve didn’t argue.

+

+

They pulled over a little farther up the road and Steve called her and Jack and Katy and Michael together, spreading a map out over the hood of the ATV.

“So, we had a look at the map this morning,” he said carefully, not meeting her gaze, “and we were thinking we could turn into the logging roads about a mile up here,” he pointed out the spot on the map. “Then there’s two towns within a day’s travel, I was thinking we could take the north fork and head here.” He pointed out the tiny dot marking the small town on the map. He paused and cleared his throat.

“What do you want to do Darcy?” he asked.

She was still for a moment, processing the gesture, but she decided not to question it too hard. “That sounds like a good plan.  Let’s keep our eye on the map though. When we hit the fork, we’ll re-evaluate, see what conditions are like.”

Steve nodded shortly, and they set off again.

They ended up taking the north fork, deciding together, both responsible for the choice. Both responsible for what happened.

They stopped a short walk outside of the town and Darcy and Michael went to scout it out while the others set up camp. It looked quiet; pretty well raided out, but there were some small stores with a few supplies left and a few public buildings to rifle through for emergency supplies.

They jogged back to camp and reported.

As they started preparing dinner, Steve pulled her aside.

“Who do you think should go?” he asked tightly.

Ahhh, so they weren’t going to talk about how she had won that argument. That was okay, Darcy didn’t need to gloat…much.

“Maybe let’s send the kids,” she suggested slowly, because she took his point about order and training  as well. “It looks really quiet. Do you think Katy and Michael will be okay with Jack?”

“Yeah, I think that’s a good idea,” he agreed.

The light was fading when the three of them set off with strict instructions to just get in and get out, be out of there before full dark.

“Follow Jack,” said Steve sternly, “Jack, play it safe. Only easy grabs.”

“Eyes open all the time,” Darcy added, “even if you think you’re covered.”

“Constant vigilance,” Michael grinned at her.

+

+

She knew, she _knew_ she would have been feeling the same way regardless, but looking back she could swear she could tell that something was going to go wrong.

They heard the shot not twenty minutes after the kids had set out. Those kids knew never to fire unless you had to. Steve and Darcy looked at each other in immediate alarm.

“Stay here,” he said, grabbing an extra gun and sprinting off towards the town at inhuman speed.

“Darcy?” Eric spoke for the seven little faces staring at her across the fire, “is everyone okay?”

Her first instinct was to reassure them, but it would be worse if it made a liar of her.

“I don’t know,” she said carefully, “But you know that if they’re alive the Captain is gonna get them home safe, right?”

It was the best she could do under the circumstances.

She knew right away as she saw their shadows coming down the path that everyone was not okay. There were only three bodies moving, and the tallest form was clearly carrying something in his arms.

She ran up to them, trying to stop them before the younger ones saw.

No one was there to stop her from seeing though, and it was only Steve’s stern look and the ashen faces of Jack and Katy that kept her from crying out.

Michael’s limp body lay draped across Steve’s arms.

She took a deep breath, schooling her emotions before she spoke.

“Bit?” she asked.

Katy nodded.

“Is he…” she trailed off.

“The Captain did it before he could…I couldn’t…” Jack choked out.

“S’alright,” she said as evenly as she could. “But the younger ones…”

“Thought they might want to say goodbye.” Steve said stiffly. “We got time to pause here a while.”

She nodded. He was right this time.

“Will you set him down,” she asked, “I want to talk to them first.”

Steve put Michael down so carefully that you might have thought he was worried about hurting him.

She swiped angrily at her eyes. Them first, then she could afford time for herself.

She grabbed Katy and Jack by the hand and pulled them towards the fire.

“Alright troops,” she said slowly as they all found a place by the fire, “I’ve got some bad news.”

+

+

It was very late by the time all the younger kids were settled, their sobs stilled to sleepy whimpers. Katy was still looking utterly shell shocked. She hadn’t said a word yet. Jack looked _angry_. She wasn’t about to lose them to this godforsaken town as well.

“What happened?” she asked finally, when it was just the three of them by the fire. Steve wasn’t far away, sitting at the edge of the camp methodically cleaning the guns that had been fired.

“We went into the church,” said Jack stiffly, “Went downstairs looking for emergency supplies, but I guess that’s where everyone had gone to hide out.” He started rhythmically stabbing his blade into the fallen log he was sitting on. “We were pretty far in before we saw them, so I had to do _something_ ,” he said with an intense look, “I _had_ to. I just didn’t see the side hall, and…”

“Jack,” she reached out to still the arm holding the knife, “I know you did everything you could.”

“I had to fight, didn’t I?” he said again, “I did. I _had_ to.” There was an edge to his voice that Darcy didn’t like.

And then Katy spoke. “We should have run,” was all she said before she ran into her tent without another word.

There was a long silence as she walked away. Darcy couldn’t remember Katy ever having a hard word for anyone, but for Jack particularly. Darcy had always privately thought that Katy was harboring a bit of a crush, or at least something like hero worship, for Jack.

Apparently nothing innocent survived out here for very long.

“I _had_ to,” Jack said again, his voice struggling over the words, resolutely not looking after Katy.

“You made a call,” Darcy said, “someone had to make a call, and you did. No one to blame but the undead, yeah?” she said.

He nodded stiffly, but she wasn’t sure he believed her. He didn’t say anything else before he turned into his tent.

She sat there for a long time staring into the fire before Steve came up beside her.

“S’done,” he said simply, as he sat beside her, “thought maybe we could find something to mark it tomorrow and then move out late morning.”

It was the thought that tomorrow they were going to have to leave and Michael wasn’t going to be coming with them that really did it. It had happened so fast that she couldn’t quite process it all, didn’t really have the option to break down in front of the kids. But whether she was ready for it or not, she was going to have to leave tomorrow and she was going to have to leave one man short.

She dropped her heads into her hands and cried, as silently as she could, but with shaking desperate sobs.

After a moment, she felt Steve’s arm tentatively settle around her shoulders. And for once she didn’t care that he wasn’t a permanent part of their lives or that he could be a real jackass sometimes, all that mattered is that he was real, and he was a grown man, and it was the first time anyone had done anything that felt like taking care of her since the world ended.

By the time she had cried herself out she was halfway on his lap, his arms pulled tight around her and a damp patch on his shoulder.

She pulled away awkwardly, wiping at her face.

“Sorry,” she mumbled in a raspy voice.

“Don’t,” he said in a low voice with a bit of a wobble. She looked up and saw that his eyes were damp. “You were strong when they needed you to be. The world mostly sucks now,” he said heavily, “terrible things keep happening. But you, these kids. Fuck, you guys might be the only good thing left in it.” He took a deep steadying breath. “You’ll be okay. You’ll miss him, but you’ll be okay.”


	5. Anguish of the Marrow

He knew the anguish of the marrow

The ague of the skeleton;

No contact possible to flesh

allayed the fever of the bone

\- T.S. Eliot (Whispers of Immortality)

 

They moved more slowly now, more carefully. They didn’t go near any towns unless they were running low. Everyone was a little less human than they used to be, and Darcy hated it.

She hated the way so many pairs of little eyes followed her wherever she went, so she could never have a moment to be scared, or unfocused, or even just bone grindingly _tired._ She hated the way Katy looked like she was wasting away; the way she shied away from the younger kids who used to look to her for reassurance; the way she had taken to crawling into Darcy’s tent sometimes at night, and how even that didn’t seem to help her sleep.

But it was getting colder at night, which meant they were making real progress north. It became more and more rare to run into walkers. The towns they found now were usually just _empty_ rather than wiped out. Like the people had had time to get the hell out of there. She hoped they had found somewhere safe. Jesus, she hoped there _was_ somewhere safe out there.

She still worried all the time, though. She didn’t even remember what it was to not be on the edge of panic anymore.

She was worried about Jack. He seemed determined to repress everything that wasn’t good in the world. It wasn’t healthy and it was making him aggressive and impulsive.

She was worried about her kids. They weren’t really ten year olds any more. They didn’t play, they worked. They had become so efficient at striking camp and packing up. They worked with Steve in the evenings, learning how to strike a killing blow. Their salutes didn’t seem like a game anymore.

She was heart stoppingly worried about the future. Steve was going to leave them soon, she knew it. They had reached a sort of understanding, she thought, the night that Michael had died. But lately he had been pulling away. He didn’t sit around the fire with them after dinner, preferring to take watch. He didn’t spend as much time working with Katy and Jack anymore. Jack more than anyone needed a good role model right now. Or a swift kick in the pants. Either of which Steve was better equipped to dole out than her.

She didn’t know what she would do when Steve was gone. Somewhere along the way she had grown dependent on him. They all had. But she felt the relief of not having to worry when he was on watch, of being able to express concerns and talk things out with him as an equal because he didn’t need a firm and unshakable leader like the younger ones did.

She would figure it out. She always did. But she did not look forward to settling the full weight of the world back on her shoulders again.

And even though he could be harsh, he could also be kind in his way. She would miss a bit of kindness in her life.

She found out exactly how wrong she had been about on a bright afternoon about two weeks after they had left the city. Steve was out running reconnaissance in a nearby town and then farther up the trail to pick their next destination.

Eric wanted to know which way his house was from here.

She immediately went looking for a map, because encouraging a bit of whimsy and nostalgia sometimes seemed like the only thing she could do for these kids.

“The Captain’s got one in his tent,” said Ben helpfully.

Darcy poked her head into Steve’s tent with trepidation. It was his space. She felt like an intruder. It smelled like him; hard work and dirt and sweat and just the slightest spice of the shaving cream he kept pilfering on raids. She had raised her eyebrows at it the first time, but he had grumbled “it’s worse to let it get too long” with such vehemence that she had let him be. Besides, he wasn’t exactly prim about it, just hacked his beard back to some stubble every few days. The smell reminded her ever so slightly of the world Before and first dates and how the firm lines of muscle on a man’s arm used to mean something more than a good hand in a fight.

She shook her head and cast around for the map. When she found it tucked under the end of his sleeping bag, she was confused.

When she found the latitude and longitude reading marked somewhere farther up into the Yukon and a transcribed message that she recognised as a SHIELD code, she was furious.

She was sitting on a cooler with the map half folded in her hands when Steve came jogging back into camp.

To his very limited credit, when he saw her with the map he didn’t say anything about going into his tent, didn’t dissemble, just let out a breath and said carefully. “I can explain.”

“It had better be _really_ damn good Rogers,” she said in an icy tone, “because it looks to me like there’s a SHIELD safehouse up north and you were planning on leaving us behind and going there by yourself.”

“I was,” he said shortly. “But I was planning on coming back.”

She slowed her breath and counted to three to refrain from killing the man.

“You were planning on _coming back_?” she hissed, “that’s all you have to say. These kids have been _desperate_ for just a sliver of hope that there are still people out there, still _anything_. And all you can say is you were _planning on coming back_?”

She was getting high pitched and she knew it. Steve grabbed her arm and hauled her to her feet.

“Don’t _touch_ me,” she whispered harshly.

He dropped her arm with a sigh, “Look, if you’re going to yell at me let’s not do it in front of the kids, okay?”

She let him lead her a little ways away from the camp.

“Look,” he said, “I got a transmission from SHIELD right before I lost all contact. It was just coordinates. My com link was working for weeks after that, but I never heard another thing. It’s a long shot, but if SHIELD has gone underground, then up north would be the place to do it. That’s why I was leading you up here in the first place. But I didn’t want to tell you about it because it might be empty. It might not even be there, it might be full of the walking reanimated corpses of everyone I’ve ever cared about, you know?” He ran a hand through his hair and took a few steps away from her.

She took a deep breath and set aside the part of her that felt betrayed that he’d kept it a secret.

“And you’ve been living with this sitting on you the whole time?” she asked gently, reaching out to place a hand on his arm.

“I…” he turned to look at her in surprise, “you’re not going to yell at me some more?” He looked so thoroughly bewildered that she had to smile.

“Not today, Steve,” she said. “I’m not mad that you wanted to keep it from the kids. You were probably right to do that. I’m mad that you kept it from me. Like it or not, we’re in this thing together now.”

“I just…” he took a step closer to her, grabbing the hand that lay against his arm. “You carry enough already.” He was looking at her, and his eyes looked a little more human than they ever had before, and she thought maybe he wasn’t so different from the man he had been before as he liked to pretend.

A high pitched child’s voice cut through the darkness, braking the moment into a million pieces. “Darcy!!!!”

They were both off at a sprint without a second thought, Steve was by far the faster runner so she just caught Trish’s explanation as she ran up, “They heard a noise so Jack told Katy to come with him and check it out but there was no one on watch so I didn’t know what to do….”

“You did good,” said Steve briskly, pulling out his knives. “Darce?” he looked at her for a moment.

“Go! Go!” she urged, pulling Trish into her arms as Steve ran off into the night.

She held on to the frightened child, peering off into the darkness for what felt like hours, but was probably only a few minutes before three forms came walking back towards the fire. She sucked in a sharp breath.

“See,” she said in a bright and cheerful voice, “everyone’s okay. You can go back to bed sweetheart. You did really good tonight. I’m so proud of you.”

Trish turned her relieved face up for a kiss and then let herself be propelled back to bed.

The look on Steve’s face and the iron grip he had on Jack’s arm suggested that things weren’t exactly peachy, but she’d take it, because they were alive.

“Everything alright?” she asked steadily, looking up at Steve questioningly.

“Fine,” he said with a steel in his tone, “just a couple of stray wanderers. Nothing to worry about. Weren’t even near enough to camp to turn our way.” He said pointedly.

“Katy, you should get some sleep,” he said kindly to the younger girl. Darcy could see that her knuckles were white where she gripped her blade and she was shaking. “Jack and I need to have a talk.” He pulled Jack off into the woods a little ways without further comment.

“You alright?” she asked Katy gently.

“Yeah,” she said with an unconvincingly thin smile. “I just want to sleep, okay?”

Darcy nodded and watched with concern as she slipped into the tent.

Steve and Jack had moved out of sight but not, as it turned out, out of earshot. She could hear them if she strained a bit.

“I _had_ to,” Jack said defensively.

“You _wanted_ to,” came Steve’s harsh answer. “You _wanted_ to and what is worse is that you dragged Katy with you. Not only did you leave seven ten year old kids completely unattended in the camp, you dragged a fifteen year old girl who is scared stupid ever since she saw her best friend die on _your_ watch out into the woods.”

“So I’m just supposed to sit there and let these things run free?” Jack answered back.

“If they’re not about to hurt you, then _yes_.” Said Steve. “You can’t punish them, you can’t scare them off, you sure as _fuck_ can’t kill them all on your own. What do you think you’re gaining other than satisfying your own goddam blood lust?”

“I _wasn’t_ …”

“Don’t talk back to me,” Steve cut out at him, “and don’t lie to me. What if something happened to me and Darcy? What if you were the only one left to take care of them? Right now, I’d give you all two weeks before you’d have lost everything left in the world. I promise you Jack, you really wouldn’t like it.” She could hear the heaviness in Steve’s voice even from here. “You have people who need you. Katy needs you. She is looking to you for safety, for reassurance, and all you are doing is giving her more to fear.”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Steve apparently forestalled further comment. “Son, you are going to stow that attitude and you are going to take a long hard look at your priorities because I swear to god, I will leave you behind before I let you put these people in danger.”

Jack stalked back to camp first and disappeared into his tent without so much as looking at Darcy. Steve slumped to a seat across from her.

She let out a low whistle.

“You heard?” he asked, his head in his hands.

“Let’s just say I’m glad you weren’t my dad when I was going through my shitty teenaged phase.” She said with a grin.

“Yeah well,” said Steve with a wry smile, “your shitty teenaged self didn’t have lives depending on you.”

“Nope,” she said, “just my shitty 24 year old self.”

“Not shitty,” he said almost absently, rubbing at his beard. “That _sucked_ ” he said with feeling.

“He needed it,” said Darcy without hesitation. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Steve paused for a moment. “They’re good kids Darcy. You’ve done right by them. I want to see them safe.”

Darcy blew out a breath and picked up their discussion from before. “So we head for the coordinates?” she said.

Steve looked at her long and steady. “We head for the coordinates.” He agreed, “and keep our fingers crossed.”

 


	6. Null the Words Spoken

Null the words spoken   
In speeches of rueing,   
The night cloud is hueing,   
To-morrow shines soon -   
Shines soon!

\- Thomas Hardy

 

 

They didn’t tell the kids, didn’t even tell Jack and Katy. But things were better. Steve, she thought, was starting to hope for the best rather than fear the worst from what they would find wherever it was where they were going.

Darcy was starting to hope, to see a happy ending to this mess for the first time since she saw the kindly old docent at the art gallery rip out the throat of a grade school teacher.

Jack was doing better too. The day after Steve had dressed him down, he was sullen and quiet. But Katy had sought him out.  Darcy didn’t know what they had talked about, but since then Jack really seemed to have taken Steve’s words about looking out for her to heart.

It was making things better for Katy too. She was starting to smile again, spend more time with the younger kids.

And they were making good progress. They had been able to find enough gas to keep the ATVs going. It wasn’t going to last for much longer, but in another few days they’d be far enough into the mountains that they’d have to go on foot anyways.

Steve was thinking another two weeks or so and they’d be in the vicinity of the coordinates.

So of course that was when things went to shit.

They were taking a rest day. Sarah and Ben had come down with low grade fevers, so Darcy and Jack were using the time to try and figure out what was making that clunking noise on one of the 4x4s. They had found a small cluster of three fairly basic but weather tight hunting cabins and were enjoying a vacation from setting up camp.

Steve was out checking out the tiny little northern town the map showed just up the road. It was quiet, peaceful. You could still hear the birds up here.

Steve came jogging back into town around lunchtime. The younger kids, full of pent up energy, were running around in an oddly quiet game of tag. The corner of Steve’s mouth turned up ever so slightly at the sight.

Darcy stood up and brushed off her hands. “Hopefully that’ll do it,” she said to Jack, “you wanna put it back together?”

“Sure Darce,” he agreed easily as she walked up to hear the report from Steve. He looked…surprised, maybe even excited.

“Darcy,” he said as they stood just at the edge of camp, “the town is _clean_.”

“What?” she almost screeched, “How’s that possible,” she brought her tone down.

“Seems like they all left together. It’s orderly, no debris on the street, no food left out on the tables. Like maybe they had somewhere to go.”

She could see the hope behind his eyes, that maybe it meant there was still somewhere safe to go up here.

“I hope they made it somewhere safe,” she said firmly, not willing to buy too far into it, not really believing it was a good thing to hang so much on a slim chance. “There anything left?” she asked.

“Some,” he said, “It’s been pretty picked over. Other drifters like us must have been through. It’s worth some time to sort through, though, while we’re here.”

“Why don’t you stay in camp,” she suggested. “The kids obviously have energy to burn, they might as well learn something from you. I’ll take Katy, we’ll gather.” She quipped lightly.

Steve didn’t miss the point and raised an eyebrow. “Leave the men to hunt?”

“Well we are pretty much stuck in the Dark Ages here,” she grinned at him, “I gotta know my place.”

Steve laughed out loud at that. It wasn’t more than a short, surprised bark, but it made her smile. They were doing okay.

“Alright, go gather,” he said, “I’ll stay here and await further orders.” He tossed her a salute and headed over to where Jack was cleaning up the tools.

Katy was sitting with Ben, reading a tattered paperback. Ben was reading their well-loved copy of the first Harry Potter novel. Michael had had one of them in his backpack and Darcy had picked up the rest on a raiding run. She’d snuck them into her own pack when they had left the city. Steve had glared at her when he first saw them, but he’d read two by now as well.

“Katy,” she said, causing two heads to look up at her, “the Captain says the town is all clear. We’re going to do some shopping.”

“It’s all clear?” she asked warily, getting to her feet.

“All clear,” she reassured.

“Alright” Katy agreed, seemingly buoyed by the purpose, “I’ll grab a pack.”

“Can I come?” Ben looked up at her, closing his book.

Darcy paused. It was as safe an outing as you could get, and they could use an extra pack.

She looked over and caught Steve’s eye, tilting her chin towards Ben with a questioning look.

Steve gave a little shrugging nod. He wasn’t worried.

“Sure Ben,” she said, much to his surprise and delight, “grab a pack.”

They were just moving into the last storefront on the tiny main street when they heard the rumble of an engine. Ben had already run inside, and Darcy hustled Katy in after him as she saw a big green truck crest the hill at the head of the street.

“Get behind the counter,” she whispered as she heard the truck stop outside. “You’re not here, do you understand? No matter what, you stay hidden and quiet. When the coast is clear, you run and find the Captain, fast as you can.” She drew her gun and crouched behind a shelf.

They nodded with pale, scared faces, clutching each other’s hands behind the counter.

“Hello in there!” a sharp male voice called out from outside the door. Darcy could see him through a gap in the shelf she was hiding behind. He looked like he might have been military once, bits and pieces of olive green and regalia.

He did not look like a nice man.

“You, the brunette, we saw you,” he hollered again, a challenging smirk in his voice.

She blew out a frightened breath but looked calmly over at Katy and Ben, “You’re not here,” she barely mouthed at them before holstering her weapon and standing up, moving out the front door with her hands up.

It had probably been a good move, because the man on the ground and three more in the truck had military issue rifles trained on her. “Good afternoon,” she said tightly. “Any reason you gentleman feel a need to point so many guns at me?”

“Any reason you felt a need to hide from us?” said the man in front of her, sauntering over.

“You never know who you can trust these days,” said Darcy evenly.

“Precisely,” the man leered at her, pushing was too far into her physical space as he pulled her gun and her knives off of her and tossed them behind him. “That the reason why you’re still hiding the kid??” he asked.

Darcy froze solid. She willed Katy and Ben to stay silent. They’d clearly only seen one of them.

“Which kid?” she asked innocently.

“Aw come on now miss, we’re the military you can trust us. Plus we saw that pretty little blond that was with you.”

Darcy shut her eyes and though frantically of how she could alter the path that she knew this was going to take. But Katy was already doing the only thing there was to do; walking out from behind the counter, leaving Ben silent and hidden behind it.

“Look,” said Darcy carefully, “We don’t want any trouble… We’re on our own, we just wanted some supplies. If this is your place, we’ll leave what we took and move on.”

“Two girls on their own surviving this long? Hard to believe.” The man sneered.

Darcy just stared evenly at him.

“Well,” he said, flicking a hand back at the truck, “We certainly can’t leave you along and unprotected.”

His hand closed in a bruising grip around her arm and one of the others jumped down and grabbed Katy by the shoulders. She was really proud of the way Katy kept her cool as two men muscled them into the back of the truck. Darcy just held her gaze the whole bumping ride through the woods. She tried to be as reassuring as she could, but the men were drinking and swearing, and the things that were coming out of their mouths…

Still, Ben must be halfway back to camp by now. There were only four of them, Steve would come.

And then the truck rolled to a stop and Katy and Darcy were hauled out and she saw where they were. She prayed that Steve wouldn’t come at all.

It had clearly been a small military outpost at some point, but disorder seemed to be prevailing now. The real problem was that there were at least 10 more heavily armed men waiting when the truck drove through the gate in the solid barbed wire fence. There were a few walkers hanging from the far side, body’s caught up in the fence, heads nothing more than half exploded lumps.

If Steve traced them here, even if Darcy could get her hands on a weapon, they would all be dead.

She willed him not to do anything stupid, willed him to think about the many rather than the few.

But a small, selfish part of her brain just wanted Steve to rescue her like some goddam damsel in distress.

She set her jaw as she walked through the low building. She kept her eyes open, scanning for exits, weak points, unguarded weapons.

Discipline didn’t really seem to exist anymore, which could be a plus. And lord knows where they were finding booze almost six months into the apocalypse, but they were all half cut.

Unfortunately, none of these things seemed like they were going to do her much good because they were pushed into a small cell like barracks room, she was handcuffed to the metal headboard and Katy to a chair.

“Now,” said the man who had picked them up, “I’m the Chief around here. Who the hell are you.”

Darcy figured they were either going to die here or kill these guys, to no point in lying.

“I’m Darcy,” she said briskly, “This is Katy. You don’t need to chain us,” she tried.

The general grinned, “Oh I think we do, because I already know that you’re a liar Darcy.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re not alone,” he said in a voice undercut with frightening rage, “no tent, no jackets, filling up empty packs, you’ve got a camp nearby.”

He stood abruptly. “You though you could just walk into my territory and take what you want?” his voice was rising and his face was flushing red. Darcy could see this man was dangerous. She immediately adopted a frightened posture. It wasn’t hard.

“We didn’t know,” she said quickly, “We didn’t know, I swear. We do have a camp, you’re right, but it’s just us.”

“Tell me where it is,” he said leaning over her, “and we’ll go pick up your stuff.”

Well fuck.

Darcy stared straight ahead.

“That’s just what I thought,” he sounded excited about it. “We know just what to do with liars here.”

She was sort of expecting it, but there wasn’t much she could do in a prone position with a hand locked above her head.

The Chief’s fist plowed into her stomach with a force that made her breathless.

Katy let out a low whimper beside her.

“I’m alright,” she managed to gasp out, “don’t worry Katy, It’ll be fine,”

It wasn’t exactly a believable lie, but she had to try. “You’re not gonna be,” snarled the general, “unless you start talking.” His fist crashed into her face and she felt a sickening flow of blood slide down her throat. She turned her head and spat it out.

She had been in pain a fair amount since the world ended, she could handle it. But falls and scrapes and aching pulled muscles were one thing. This was something entirely different. He kept hitting her, hurting her, but she was starting to fade away from it.

Apparently the Chief could see he was getting nowhere.

“Maybe you’d rather die,” he growled at her, “but would you rather _her_ die?” he moved towards Katy who draw back away from him with a jolt.

Darcy forced herself to think. “Wait,” she managed to mumble. “wait…” to give herself time. What was the likelihood that the camp was in the same spot? Steve would either have minimized all the risks he could before making a move or just moved on without them. Either way, it wasn’t likely that they were still at the cabins. Would he have left a note for them, just in case? I he had moved the group onwards? She was going to have to risk it.

“We were at the three little hunting cabins a ways out of the town to the south,” she finally said, “But they won’t have stayed when we didn’t come back. They’d have moved on.”

The general stepped back from Katy and gave her a considering look.

“You’ll forgive me if I don’t take your word.” He called out down the hallway at a few of his men.

“In the meantime,” he turned to her, “I don’t think I’ll be leaving unsupervised.”

He left the door open as he left. There was a discussion going on outside, and she could hear a truck pulling away. She prayed Steve and the others were long gone.

The door opened again and two men walked in, weapons drawn standing at the foot of the bed.

“We hear you’ve been causing some trouble,” one of the men cut out at her. “We don’t really care for tr….”

He was cut off as the sound of gunfire came from somewhere near the entrance to the compound.

“What the _fuck”_ one of them called out, and then turned to the other. “Go check it out,”

There was another burst of gunfire, much closer this time.

The first man never came back, and the second one had drawn his gun, advancing on Darcy with a murderous look in his eyes. “What the fuck have you done, girl,” he spat at her, weapon trained on her chest.

And then, so quickly she couldn’t figure out what was happening, the man’s face wasn’t there anymore, and he toppled forwards, heavy across her legs.

Steve was standing in the doorway. He was holding something on his arm, it looked like the hatch to a tanker or something, the gun in his other hand was smoking. There was blood on his face and Darcy could cry for how perfect he looked.

But there were other things to focus on.

“Steve, the cuffs. Get me a weapon,” she tugged urgently at her shackles, the dead body of her would be attacker lying heavy over her legs.

He stood there for a long moment, just looking at her. It made her look back more carefully. Things may have gotten easier between them, but he had never stopped being careful and guarded. There was nothing careful or guarded about him now. He looked at her with eyes like gaping wounds, bleeding out everything good that was left in him.

It was frightening.

“Steve,” she tried against carefully.

“They’re…” he began in a cracked and ragged voice. “I killed them. I killed all of them.”

“Okay,” she said evenly, “what about the ones that left a few minutes ago?” because as fucked up as this whole situation was, she wasn’t going to _die_ over it.

“I caught up with them just outside of town.” He said dully.

“Good,” she cast her eyes around for something useful but came up with nothing, “You think you could break the cuffs?”

“I’ll find the key…” he started in that same flat tone.

“No,” she interrupted. “Don’t.” The thought of Steve having to paw over the corpses of the men he had never wanted to have to kill made her feel sick.

He looked at her almost gratefully, and then cast his eyes over at Katy who was looking at him with her mouth dropped open in alarm.

“How’re you doing, Katy?” he finally asked, his tone evening out. She could see him shoving everything back down behind his veneer of control.

“I’m…I’m okay,” she said with an admirable steadiness, “it was really only Darcy that they…”

“Don’t worry,” she turned to the girl, “I’m just fine okay?”

Katy nodded.

It didn’t take Steve more than a moment to find a weak point and break the chain in their cuffs.

“I’ll find a hack saw as soon as I can,” he promised worriedly, fingering the cuff still clasped around Darcy’s wrist.

“It’s okay,” she said distractedly. Katy was staring fixedly at the blood pooling around the dead man at her feet. “We should go,” she stood stiffly, doing her best to disguise how much pain she was in so Steve wouldn’t protest what came next.

“Katy, the Captain’ll give you a piggy back, you just put your head down until I say so, okay?”

It was a mark of how out at sea the girl was that she nodded without protest.

Steve turned to her sharply, “Are you sure you can…”

“I’m fine,” she repeated stiffly. “Let’s just go.”

Katy didn’t see the scene in the compound as they walked out, but Darcy did. She didn’t hide from it, but looked straight at the corpses littering the floor. They were clean kills, straight shots to the head. They wouldn’t be reanimating. It was an utterly ruthless scene, controlled and calculated murder.

It was incredibly comforting.

It was getting hard, though, to keep putting one foot in front of the other. She could feel blood dripping down her leg, pooling at the bottom of her pants where they tucked into her boots.

Something was grinding painfully in her ankle and her gut ached so that it was hard to stand upright.

They were just passing the four dead men who had been on their way to the camp when her vision started to swim and go dark in the corners.

“Steve,” she finally gasped out, “I need to stop.” He looked back at her, took in her white face, hunched posture, and bleeding leg and immediately hoisted Katy off his back. He was saying something to her, but she couldn’t focus on it, and all at once everything just faded out.

When she came too, she could see they were just outside of the camp and Steve was carrying her in his arms, just like when Michael…

“Put me down,” she whispered in a panicked voice, “put me down before they see.”

“Darcy,” Steve started in a careful tone.

“I’m beat up, but that’ll heal,” she hissed, “We walk into camp like this, and it might not.”

He let out a breath, but carefully set her to her feet. He kept an arm locked under her shoulders.

“Katy,” he asked gently, “could you…”

But she was already there at Darcy’s other side and they all made it back into camp upright and together.

Darcy almost forgot her pain as they walked up to the fire and Jack, looking as young as she had ever seen him, ran up to Katy, threw his arms around her, and kissed her full on the mouth.

Steve and Darcy looked at each other in shock for a moment, and then the stern line of Steve’s lips broke into a tiny crooked grin.

“Alright, alright,” he said after a moment, “break it up.”

The two teens broke apart with sheepish smiles.

“Sorry,” said Jack breathlessly, “it was all clear here all night,” he reported to Steve.

“Let’s hope it stays that way,” he said. “Can you two organise a watch? Darcy needs a bit of patching up.”

Jack and Katy nodded.

“Alright,” he looked to the younger ones, “say goodnight then, and we’ll all get some rest.”

Darcy gladly endured the pain of seven affectionate and scared goodnights as the little ones went off to bed.

“Jack,” Steve stopped him before he moved off, “Thank you. I couldn’t have gone if I didn’t have a man I could trust at camp.”

Jack just nodded, but Darcy could see that he stood a little taller as he moved off to take watch.

Steve helped her into the smaller cabin where she settled gingerly onto the low cot. Both hers and Steve’s gear was inside but Darcy had been bunking with the other girls when she wasn’t on watch.

She was glad, now, that Steve was here with her.

“You alright?” she asked him softly as he rummaged for a first aid kit.

“No,” he said shortly, and without explanation, “Where the bleed on your leg.”

Darcy decided that she wasn’t going to get any more out of him until he was ready, so she just said, “just above the left knee. It’s shallow and the knife looked pretty clean.”

“He cut you anywhere else?” he was looking anywhere but at her face as he approached and started carefully working off her boots and socks.

“No,” she said, “Might’ve cracked a few ribs and one of my teeth is loose, but other than that, just bruises. I’m fine.|

“You’re not _fine,”_ Steve cut out harshly. “Can you get your belt? Is that…” he looked uncomfortable.

How the man could be uncomfortable about seeing her in her underwear in this situation, she would never know. But it was kind of comforting.

She rolled her eyes at him, trying to lighten the mood as she fumbled with her buckle and zipper.

He was incredibly careful as he peeled her pants down her legs, but his fingers left streaks against her pale skin, and the pull against the wound on her leg as the blood soaked material was pulled away started a fresh but sluggish flow.

She found that she did feel a bit exposed. But Steve was just _looking_ at her.

It was only a moment, and then he broke into efficient action, cleaning and binding her cuts and abrasions, tightly wrapping her ribs.

He found her only other pair of pants and helped her carefully pull them on. Even now, they still had to be ready to leave. He left for a moment to rinse out her pants, and she was thankful that there was a lake nearby.

When he came back, he settled on the edge of the cot beside her.

“Jack and Katy have watch covered tonight,” he said, “you can sleep.”

“What about you?” she asked, propping herself up gingerly on her elbows.

“I don’t need as much,” he said stiffly.

“Steve…” she started.

“Don’t,” he said darkly.

“You don’t have to talk about it,” she said, “Just stop freezing me out. Because I’m fucking terrified and I almost died, and you saved our lives, and you won’t even _look_ at me.” She didn’t realise how close she was to the edge until she found tears running down her face.

Steve stood up and threw the first aid kit against the wall with a crash.

“It is too much to ask to get a break, just once?” he stormed, “They were _people_. They were supposed to protect others. They took an oath.”

“The end of the world is a lot to take, I suppose,” she said carefully.

“Are you apologising for them? After what they did you? And to Katy?”

“No,” she said, “I’m not doing that.”

“They’ve been almost safe up here. But you, look at what you did, surrounded down in the city by yourself with no training. How can you even think of defending them?”

“I’ve gotten a kid killed,” she said simply.

Steve was back at her side in a heartbeat.

“The way I see it, you’ve saved nine lives.” His shoulders dropped, “Jesus Christ Darcy, I killed fourteen men today.”

“You saved me,” she managed.

“God help me, I’d do it again.”

Darcy didn’t know why, but this was the last straw on her control. She cried.

Steve didn’t say a word, just stretched out next to her and carefully pulled her into his arms.


	7. Sanctuary

My land is bare of chattering folk;  
The clouds are low along the ridges,  
And sweet's the air with curly smoke  
From all my burning bridges.

\- Sanctuary (Dorthy Parker)

 

She woke the next morning feeling impossibly stiff and sore, but it was the first night in six months where she hadn’t had to sit a shift on watch. It was amazing the wonders a solid night of sleep could do.

She blinked blearily; her face was pressed into Steve’s neck, her arm tossed across his waist, their legs tangled in the small cot.

“You awake?” he asked softly against her hair.

She made a non-committal noise.

“Sore?”

She made a much more affirmative noise to that, but carefully rolled herself over so she and Steve were wedged shoulder to shoulder, staring upwards. The very beginnings of morning light were creeping under the door.

“It was nice to sleep though,” she said, “thank you.”

“We need to make a plan,” he said. “We’re only two days away from the end of the logging roads, but you need more days that that before you can go on foot.”

“I’ll do what I have to,” she said, wincing even at the thought of it.

“I can carry you, if it comes to that,” he said, like it was an obvious thing, “but it will cut down on our supplies.”

Darcy let her lips quirk up in a smile. “This from the man who had his own plans. I’m sorry to be such a burden.”

He blew out a breath. “You’re not a burden,” he said simply.

There was a pause, and it struck Darcy for the first time that it had been a very very long time since she had shared a bed with a man. She wasn’t sure this counted. Another one of life’s simple pleasures ruined by the apocalypse, she supposed.

“With one more vehicle,” she said, “we could leave the trailers and just travel with packs. We could get farther up into the hills that way.”

“There was an ATV at the compound,” Steve said at once, “I’ll go back for it.”

“Are you sure…”

“It’ll be fine,” he said in tone that brooked no argument. “You can supervise paring down and packing up?”

She nodded in agreement, but it was a long few minutes, their shoulders and hips and legs pressed warmly together, before either of them made any move to get to it.

In the end, they managed to get people and packs loaded up and on the road before mid-morning. They had enough gas to get about four days of travel. Steve figured that would get them up to the snow line and then they’d only have to climb for about a week to hit the coordinates.

Darcy was finding it a hard thing to imagine, that there might be a goal out there that was something better than just surviving.

Katy and Jack knew they were going somewhere, even if they didn’t know anything more. The little ones just thought that they were looking for a good place to stay. But everyone knew the end of travelling was almost here.

There was more energy around camp in the mornings, more laughter from the kids, the two teens with their heads bent together making absurd plans for the future.

When they left all the unnecessary supplies behind, they had dropped a number of tents. They didn’t talk about it, but Darcy and Steve rolled out their beds together in the pup tent that had used to be Darcy’s alone. It wasn’t like that first night, pressed close and shaking through the adrenaline and fear, but more often than not they kept contact.

It was comforting, it made her feel safer, and that’s all the thought she spared for it. She had no room for anything else, it was all focused forward.

Nine more days, eight, seven.

+

+

They finally left the ATVs that had kept them alive and moving for so long when the terrain got too rocky and steep and the first dusting of snow started to fall. It was cold, freezing at night, and they put on all the layers they had, but they felt safer for it.

Steve had heard, he told them, that the walkers would freeze in the cold, so even if there were any up here the threat was low. It didn’t mean they could drop their guard; Steve was very clear about that.

“Constant vigilance,” said Katy with a small sad smile.

“Exactly,” said Darcy, squeezing her hand.

The cold didn’t make the travelling any easier though. The climb was hard, and their progress was slow, clambering over frozen rocks with heavy packs. By the third day, the children were doing better, but by still, by mid-afternoon their steps began to slow and hiking slowly turned into trudging.

Katy and Jack handled it fine. Even though they had been on the ATVs for weeks now, they had been climbing 25 flights of stairs for a few months, so in some ways the slow ascent seemed almost homey, or at least business as usual.

Despite the climbing, Darcy felt like she was healing all right. Each day she needed less and less help and felt less and less sore in the morning.

They were all slowing Steve down, but he didn’t seem to mind anymore. His inward focus and his haste to always be moving somewhere, doing something, had faded more and more the farther they moved from the city.

Of course, none of them had the same enthusiasm for it as they had had when they set out. The excitement and even the adrenaline inducing fear of travelling had faded with time and as the weather turned colder, adventure had turned into routine, and routine had turned into monotony, and now that they were on foot, monotony had turned into a slow and miserable grind up into the mountains.

It was wearing on everyone. Every day now, there were falls and fevers and exhausted children who needed a break, which led to exhaustion for those who had to carry the extra load.

Except for Steve.

Today, he had Tess sitting on his shoulders, hand clutching his dirty blonde hair. She had slipped off an icy climb the day before and had a nasty gash on her shin.

They kept quiet on the march, always better to be safe, but Darcy was close enough to catch just the edge of their hushed conversation.

“What about Batman?” she was asking.

“Well,” said Steve in a very serious tone of voice for a conversation with a ten year old, “I think I’d be a bit stronger than him, and I’ve never heard of him using any gadgets that could get past my shield, if I had it.”

“I bet you Superman could just melt it into a puddle,” chirped Tess, undaunted.

“He’d have to catch me first,” Steve shot back.

“Don’t you know _anything_ Captain,” Tess rolled her eyes dramatically, “he’s _faster than a speeding bullet_.”

“Well you’ve got me there,” Steve admitted.

Darcy tried to cover up a snort of laughter, but Steve _did_ have excellent hearing, so he turned to look back at her, catching her amused expression with a rueful shrug.

In the face of all the misery that had followed them on this trip, it was comforting to see him soften like this. He wasn’t the same hard man they had met down in the city. She thought maybe there was something sort of human still lurking there.

+

+

She’d forgotten, in this new environment, how quickly they could come up on you for such slow and uncoordinated creatures.

They had just finished striking camp in the morning, loading the last few thinks into packs. A low rustle in the woods was the only warning they got before seven lurching walkers stumbled out of the woods towards them.

She saw it like it was happening in slow motion, but still she couldn’t get in front of it.

The younger kids were closest to the tree line, quietly giving the others room as they hoisted the heavier packs.

It meant they were unprotected when the things lunged for them out of the shadows. She was stumbling towards them, dropping her pack and grabbing frantically for her blades. She could see them as they tried to draw their little knives with shaking hands, but there were too many of the dead, and not even Steve was fast enough to get there in time.

It had been a long time since Darcy had seen a walker take someone down. There hadn’t been anyone left to eat in the city. She had certainly never seen those things take down a child she had been caring for, who she had held in her arms and sung to sleep. Who she had promised to take care of.

The high, thin screams of Tyler and Sarah dissolved any kind of hardness she had thought she developed, and she couldn’t move.

All seven of the things focused on the two pitifully thin little bodies, and their screams were cut mercifully short. It gave the others time to run for cover, for Steve and Jack and Katy to draw their blades.

Steve turned to her, his eyes wide, as close to panic as she had seen him. She was just stuck in place, watching with a growing sense of horror as the remains of two of her kids disappeared into not much more than stains on the frozen ground in front of her.

Steve cut out her name. “Darcy.” And the harsh and desperate tone of it finally spurred her to action.

Four against seven wasn’t hard odds, and they all knew what they were doing, but by the time all seven…well, nine now…corpses lay still, she was sweating and winded, her hands shaking in their grip on her blades.

There was a long, still silence, and then Darcy leaned over and vomited up her breakfast.

Steve took a step towards her, but she waved him off.

“We have to go,” she choked out, “if it’s not cold enough to stop them yet, the smell will bring others.”

She turned to the ghost white group of children, smaller by two, clinging to each other where they crouched near the pile of packs.

“Anyone else hurt?” she asked, forcing herself upright and moving towards them.

“I…” Ben’s voice was tiny and shaking, “I don’t know….” He pushed himself forward and rolled up his sleeve.

Darcy saw blood and her heart stopped. She could feel the blood drain out of her face and her hands start to shake. It would be too cruel. Somewhere in her she felt that even this fucked up mess of a world couldn’t do this to her.

Steve was there in an instant, crouching beside Ben, inspecting his arm. It felt like an hour, even though Darcy knew it was second, while Steve ran his fingers over the gash in Ben’s forearm, heedless of the hitching wince of pain from the boy.

“It’s from a blade,” Steve said shortly, but with intense relief, “you’re alright.”

Ben, who had been white faced but brave, started sniffling and then began to sob. Darcy’s heart felt like it was breaking, but she couldn’t stop. Couldn’t pause to comfort or grieve. Because the only thing that could possibly matter right now, the only path that was open to her was to keep moving.

They moved on quickly, pushed farther than they normally would, everyone moving in jittery silence punctuated by the odd stifled cry from a scared and shaken child. They didn’t stop until they found a high, clear place to pitch their tents, no trees near enough conceal anything dangerous.

Without more than two words, Steve turned on his heel and paced off to run the tree line, make sure the woods were clear.

Tess and Ben and Danny and Eric and Trish…was that really all there was left?…were sitting grey faced and silent, making no move to set up their tents. Katy was leaning into Jacks’ shoulder, his fingers white where they gripped around her waist.

Darcy wanted to lean into someone too. She wanted to sit and be silent and let the earth swallow her whole.

She took a deep breath.

“Oh my darlings,” said Darcy, in as steady a tone as she could manage as she dropped her pack to the ground, “Come’ere.”

It was okay, she thought, to focus on them, clutching at the thin limbs piling around her, holding back her own sobs in the face of theirs. Muttering whatever words of comfort she could find in herself.

After a while, their shoulders started to settle, and Katy said quietly in a concerned tone, “Darcy, the Captain’s not back yet.”

She could hear a dull thunk thunk thunk off in the woods a little ways.

“Probably chopping wood,” she said evenly, even as a sluggish stir of adrenaline tightened her gut. “Will you guys be okay to set out camp? I’ll go help the captain carry it back.”

+

+

She found him going at a felled tree like it was his worst enemy.

“Steve,” she tried softly, but he didn’t look up. “Steve?” she tried again, louder this time, and he stilled, his axe sunk into the log. She could see his shoulders were shaking.

“Hey,” she approached him slowly, laying a careful hand on his arm, “you okay?”

“Am I _okay_?” he asked in a dull, incredulous voice, “I don’t even know if I’m a _person_ anymore. I left _okay_ behind a long time ago.” He was spitting out his words like bitter venom.

“I know,” she said simply, because she _did_. She sat on the log gingerly, still stiff and sore. “I don’t even know what to feel right now. I can’t really feel…anything.”

Steve blew out a breath. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have….”

“You’re allowed to be upset Steve,” she interjected, “In fact I’d be kind of pissed off if you weren’t. I mean, we just lost two of our kids today and I…” unexpectedly, her throat clenched and tears sprung to her eyes, and without even really knowing how, she found herself doubled over, heaving for breath.

Steve sat heavily on the log beside her.

“We did,” he said. “I should have been faster, I should have been _watching_.”

“You should never have had to deal with _any_ of this,” Darcy let out on a gasp. “I’m sorry I made us your responsibility. You didn’t need it. All we’ve ever done is made things worse for you.” She wasn’t sure if she had really known that she felt that way until the words came hiccupping out between sobs. It was an odd feeling, after she had resented his distance for so long.

“Don’t be an idiot,” Steve’s voice was cutting, but it wasn’t mean. She looked over at him sharply, but his face was buried in his hands.

She reached over and took one of his hands in hers, gripping it, probably crushing it, but he didn’t seem to mind. They sat in silence for a long while.

“We should get back,” Steve said finally. “Katy and Jack will be worried.”

Darcy managed a damp chuckle, because if she had to talk about today for one more second, she didn’t know how she’d make it until tomorrow. “If they have torn themselves away from each other to notice we’re gone.”

The corner of Steve’s mouth kicked up. “It’s…nice.” He said finally.

“Something kind of innocent, isn’t it?” Darcy agreed as they both rose stiffly to their feet.

Steve made an absent noise of agreement, but he was looking at her in a way she couldn’t read at all. She didn’t really feel much like trying to puzzle it out though. It had been a hard day. One of the hardest she’d ever know, so she couldn’t bear the burden of anything else.

Steve spoke quietly as they approached the camp, tents pitched and a small fire going. “I was thinking,” he said carefully, “I should go back and…we should…Tyler and Sarah…we just left them.”

They were walking up close enough to be within earshot of Katy and Jack, who were by the fire.

“And do what?” she said, sharper than she intended.

“The ground’s frozen,” said Steve after a moment, “It’ll take a while, but I can…”

“No,” said Darcy in a shaky voice, “we’re so…” she paused.

“Close?” asked Jack. Darcy and Steve looked at each other then back at Jack and Katy who had turned to look at them. Apparently they had been louder than they thought.

“Yes,” said Steve finally, “We’ll make it in a few days. We don’t know what we’ll find, but it could be…”

“It could be a place to stay,” Darcy said.

The look of hope and excitement, even through their pale and exhausted faces, made Darcy feel like there was a weight pressing on her that she could hardly bear.

“I’ll scout it out when we get close,” Steve said, “and we’ll tell the others when we know what’s there.”

That night, when they crawled back into her tent, without any kind of discussion, Darcy slid into Steve’s sleeping bag, and he didn’t say a word as her shoulders shook under his hands, and she didn’t remark on the dampness at the top of her head.

+

+

The next day was a hard one, trudging and scrambling quietly over the frozen, rough terrain. All of their legs were aching from the strain.

All of their hearts were aching from the strain.

She felt like they had barely moved onwards at all by the time the sun started sinking and they found level ground to set up camp. It was a quiet evening, even though Steve told her and Katy and Jack the he thought they would make it to their destination the next day.

She didn’t protest as Steve pulled her against his chest when he crawled into the tent after his shift on watch. There was something to be said for having someone strong and alive beside you.

The reason didn’t matter, the meaning of it didn’t matter, not beyond just getting through the night, and the day after it.

+

+

It was earlier than she thought it would be the next day when Steve looked at the map and then looked at her. Her heart sank even as anticipation rose in her throat.

Tyler and Sarah had been so close.

They were still a sombre group as they stopped to rest, but when Steve came running back over the hill, Darcy felt a rush of excitement flow through her, cutting through the dull fog of pain and grief.

He was smiling.

When they came over the hill, a nervous and excited and heartsick little group of refugees, Darcy’s heart nearly stopped. She reached out and grabbed Steve’s wrist.

She had been expecting a small outpost, but in the valley below them, and expansive compound with dozens of buildings and thick high walls stretched out in front of her. She could see extensive gardens and people, dozens of people, walking around without weapons.

Steve looked at her with eyes alight and as they approached the high gates, he called out “You gonna keep me waiting all day Barton?”

With a mechanical clank and groan, the gates began to move open. There was a man and a woman standing in front of a small crown of uniformed men.

Darcy looked up at Steve warily, her hands dropping to her blades as she stepped squarely in front of the younger kids who were clambering to see around, but he smiled back reassuringly.

“Darcy,” he said, “Meet Clint Barton and Natasha Romanov.”

The two trim figures in tidy black fatigues stepped forward with stunned looks on their faces.

“Captain Fucking America,” said Barton shaking his head, “Goes AWOL in the apocalypse and comes back with an army of kids and beautiful woman.”

“Figures,” the read headed woman said with a sharp grin. “Welcome to the Sanctuary.”


	8. SHIELD File #78296 - Project Sanctuary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Rapid update! The last chapter marks a sort of an act break in the story. I'm taking the opportunity to experiment with using pictures instead of having to write extensive exposition. Enjoy!

SHIELD File #78296 - Project Sanctuary

 


	9. All the empty spaces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've seen All the empty spaces yet to be filled.   
> I've heard All of the sounds that will collect   
> at the end of the world.   
> And the silence that follows. 
> 
> I'm alive, I believe in everything   
> I'm alive, I believe in it all.
> 
> \- Lesley Choyce

Showering for the first time in more than six months was one of the most surreal and intensely satisfying experiences of Darcy’s life.

It wasn’t as if they had just stagnated in their own filth on the road or anything, but wiping yourself down with a damp towel had nothing on standing under the endless spray of a shower. It was even warm. Apparently the whole place was powered by one of Stark’s arc reactors. It wasn’t as though she thought that hot showers were going to last forever, but she wasn’t going to turn it down right now.

She stood in the small and utilitarian cubicle for almost 45 minutes. They had been promised that the water supply here was huge, well managed, and easily replenished, so she refused to think about the waste as she scrubbed and scrubbed until all the ground-in dirt sloughed off her and she felt raw with the effort.

When she pulled herself out of the shower, she pulled on clean and fresh underwear, black SHIELD fatigue pants and a soft grey t-shirt with the comfortingly familiar eagle logo stretched across the front.

Then she blinked at the person staring back at her through the hazy steam covered mirror.

It wasn’t that she hadn’t seen her reflection before, but over the past months she had never really _looked_ , never wanted to know what she would see.

Her damp hair hung jaggedly above her shoulders, uneven spikes clinging to her neck. Her collarbone stood out sharply, the corded muscles of her shoulders in sharp relief. She looked thin and hard, her cheekbones more prominent than she remembered.

She turned away.

It was the first night she had slept safe in months. It was also the first night she had slept _alone_ in almost two weeks. Somehow, that second part seemed to matter more, and she was tired and bleary when the thin morning light through her window woke her.

Maria Hill, who Darcy had been unreasonably happy to find alive for how often she had cursed her name at the mandatory SHIELD boot camp she had been forced to attend Before, had told them to get the kids to breakfast and someone would sort them out, so she crawled out of bed and got dressed.

There was a certain novelty to clean clothes and a clock on the wall and time keeping that mattered.

The very first thing she did when she got up was walk across the hall to wake up the children. They had been assigned four rooms, two on each side of the hall, near the end of one long wing. Darcy hadn’t been officially assigned a room yet, and had slept in temporary quarters so she could be close to the kids, but she would worry about that later. Katy and Jack each had their own little rooms with narrow beds all to themselves. The younger ones were bunked together. Tess and Trish in one room, Ben, Danny and Eric in the other. She knew, logically, that making it here with 70% of the group she had started with was statistically really good, but as they piled into the boys’ room and she hugged them and kissed their clean foreheads, all she could think about were the ones she had let down.

She was peppered with questions as she navigated their way to the mess hall, which had been pointed out to them the day before. She didn’t have all that many answers, so she was glad when a woman wearing the blue arm band of command staff approached them after breakfast. She had been sent to take the kids on a tour of the facility and see about getting them set up in the small school they were running. Apparently there were a few dozen kids here already, children of SHIELD agents who had been lucky enough to get out in time, and children from the closest towns and villages that SHIELD had evacuated to the Sanctuary before the dead arrived.

School and chores and learning how to help out in the farms and fields sounded pretty idyllic to Darcy; she, however, had been called to a meeting at HQ. The younger children hadn’t exactly been happy about going off on their own, but Katy and Jack shepherded them onwards without too much protest.

It felt odd and uncomfortable to be walking through the hallways on her own. Darcy hadn’t gone _anywhere_  on her own since she had found Steve in the mall. For a while, she had missed the moments of solitude, but now she just felt exposed.

She ran into Steve just outside of the building marked as the Command Centre and stopped in her tracks. She hadn’t seen him since they had said a rather stilted an awkward goodnight the night before, sleeping out of earshot for the first time in months, out of reach for the first time in weeks.

She wondered if the way he was looking at her meant that the difference in her appearance was as startling as his.

It wasn’t just that he was clean, although that was part of it. His hair was still too long, curling over the backs of his ears, and he hadn’t shaved off his beard, but it was neatly trimmed, and that tightness around his eyes, the one that came from being out in the open and constantly on edge, wasn’t there.

Steve felt safe here. She could see it. It made her feel safe here. And it put some of the shine back on him. He looked like a leader of men again.

“Captain,” she said evenly with a nod.

He was still staring at her.

“You look good,” he finally said in a clipped tone.

She raised an eyebrow at him but just moved forwards through the door. As she walked past him, his hand fell against the small of her back and they moved into the already full meeting room. She didn’t look up at him, or say anything about it, because his hand was warm and strong, and she could use all the support she could get.

The table full of people looking back at her were grim and hard.

“You look rested,” said Hill, “We’re glad to see it. We want to debrief you about your time on the outside. And then you’re going to have to make a choice, once we’ve heard from you and once we’ve explained what we’re doing here, and it’s a choice you need to make sooner rather than later.”

“What choice is that?” Steve asked sharply. She was surprised at his tone. These were his people.

But, she supposed, he knew better than her the way they operated, and had probably expected what came out of Hill’s mouth.

“Whether you’re going to be assets or liabilities.” Darcy at least appreciated the way she didn’t shy away from it. “This place is a safe place for now, but we have to think long term. The world ended. There’s no government any more, no military. We’ve got no hold on you Captain, on either of you. But you two have been out there the longest of anyone here, seen the most. We want to know what you know, and we want your help.”

“Our help for _what_?” Darcy asked incredulously.

“Taking back what’s ours,” said Hill with grim determination.

Steve and Darcy looked at each other for a long moment.

“You don’t know what’s out there,” Steve started.

“We’d like to,” Hill cut him off, “so why don’t you just start at the beginning.”

“I don’t have a whole lot to tell,” said Darcy, crossing her arms defensively. “I was in Vancouver when the infection hit. I ended up with a group of kids. We hid out in an apartment building, just raiding supplies, until we ran into the Captain.”

“Well,” said Hill, “We’ll want to know everything you learned about dealing with them in close quarters, moving through cities.”

“Fine,” said Darcy.

“And we’ll also want to know about what tactical skills those children have, especially the older ones.”

Darcy was on her feet and yelling so fast that she barely noticed Steve doing the same thing.

“You keep you goddam hands away from those kids, they have been through enough.” She hollered, as Steve was yelling. “They are _children_ Hill, for god’s sake. What the hell are we trying to save if we need to send kids out there?”

Hill held her hands up to stop them. “We would never send the children out,” she pacified, “we just need to know what they can do. It will influence what they can contribute here. And we would certainly never do anything without your permission.” She was looking at both of them when she said it, and it made Darcy feel odd, like she wasn’t quite sure when she signed up to co-parent with the Captain.

“Maybe you could tell us how you ended up in Vancouver, Captain,” Hill asked, as if reading Darcy’s mind. “Last I heard you were in the mid-west. What happened to you after we sent out the call?”

“All I got were coordinates. No message. I didn’t know what was happening, besides the fact that everything was going to shit.”

Darcy watched him carefully as he went on, narrating in clear, short, and unemotional pieces of information. She was curious about what had happened to him before she had met him, but she was more concerned about what was going on behind his eyes as he talked. The words he was saying were bad enough, but the way his hands were gripping the arms of his chair and the way that tight, dark look was back in his eyes…she thought that maybe living through it had been much worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to Merideath and Nessismore for the super helpful feedback / typo policing! This chapter essentially runs right into the next one, so there may be an update coming sooner than you think!!


	10. The Heart Must Pause

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the sword outwears its sheath,   
> And the soul wears out the breast,   
> And the heart must pause to breathe,   
> And love itself have rest.
> 
> \- Lord Byron

 “What the fuck is _this?_ ” Steve clenched his jaw and shut his eyes as Ronnie “the Duke” Masterson pulled his government issue firearm out of his bag. The goons holding his hands behind his back weren’t exactly a threat, but he was supposed to extract without blowing his cover.

Ronnie had his hands on just about everything illegal that crossed the United States. They had traced Hydra money to him, and then found threads leading to almost every major underground arms dealer and pseudo revolutionary group you could think of. Having an easy route back into the operation was invaluable.

So he probably should have ditched the gun, but how was he to know that Ronnie was going to show up unexpectedly to see him off?

“Look Ronnie,” he started, not really knowing how he was going to talk his way out of this one.

But just then, there was a commotion down the hall, and the door, left ajar, burst inwards.

Steve was only momentarily relieved, because he and the two lackies both stood frozen in horror as the bloody lurching figure of his neighbour down the hall tore a bite sized chunk out of Ronnie’s neck.

Steve shook off the shock quickly, easily twisting away from the thugs and pulling his sidearm from his waistband. He didn’t know what they hell was going on, but if there was any chance of saving his neighbour, he was going to take it.

His neighbour who was currently tearing into the soft flesh of Ronnie’s still twitching corpse. Steve shoved down his rising gorge and took aim, placing a neat round into the thing’s shoulder.

He began to immediately re-evaluate the severity of the situation as the thing looked up at him and then rose, lurching towards the two goons, who were still standing frozen.

They paid for their slow reaction time, and the lumbering nightmare got one in the arm, one in the shoulder as they tried to shove it off.

Steve made a call and put the thing down with a clean round between the eyes and then ran to the door.

He looked out, let out a quiet curse, and then slammed the door behind him.

He turned back to the two thugs, clutching their wounds and staring at their dead and mangled boss.

Steve supposed you couldn’t really pick your allies in a situation like this, whatever this was.

“Alright,” he said, dropping the loose and casual speech and posture he’d adopted under cover, “hallway’s a bit crowded. How’s the fire escape look?”

The man closes to the window looked out.

“Fire escape is fine,” he said shakily. Steve noticed that he was sweating, like he had a fever, and he hoped they weren’t about to panic. “It’s what’s below it that’s going to be a problem.”

Steve moved to the window. The streets below him were chaos. People were screaming, running, seemingly without goal. A car was on fire, there was blood in the windows of too many apartments, and everywhere there were stumbling, lurching figures pursuing or attacking or eating.

Screw protocol. Steve dug out his com link. There were three messages.

The first was “SHIELD HQ under attack, threat level alpha, source unknown.”

The second was “Hellicarrier contact lost” and a listing of the last known position over the east coast.

The final one was “evacuate” and a set of coordinates Steve had never seen before.

How in the hell had this happened? He had been pretty disconnected on this mission, but it had only been three weeks, and all he could recall hearing were odd rumors of some sort of infection moving around the east coast.

This wasn’t an infection, this was a goddamn nightmare.

He forced himself to stop thinking about what might have happened to his team and flicked his com to a military setting.

“Anderson base, do you copy?”

After a moment, there was a crackle and a hum and a voice came over the com

“This is Anderson base, identify.”

“Captain Rogers, calling in. We’ve got a bit of an emergency here in the city.”

“Captain,” the voice clipped back at him, “We’ve got a bit of an emergency everywhere.”

“Are you secure?” he asked.

“For now,” came the answer, “Can you make it to us?”

“Don’t suppose I have much of a choice,” he said grimly. “See you soon base.”

“We’ll hold dinner for you Captain,” came the voice on the other end before it cut out.

He turned back to the other two men in the room to tell them the plan, but he stopped short.

They looked terrible, sweating and shaking, their faces pale.

“You alright?” he asked, looking at them consideringly, “We need to move out.”

“I’m so thirsty,” one croaked out blearily.

“Goddamit,” Steve cursed under his breath, but he went to rummage through the bathroom to see if there was anything he could give them to get them out the door, and while he was at it, to gather what supplies he had in the tiny apartment.

About ten minutes later, while he was rooting around in the kitchen cupboards, filling a sack, he heard a crash and a groan from the living room.

He paused for just a moment to look up the ceiling and let out a despairing sigh, before he pulled his gun and went back in.

It became immediately clear to him that getting bit by one of those things was worse than just a flesh wound. The two flunkies were grey skinned and jerky corpses now, chewing on the remains of their boss. That is, until they looked up and saw Steve at the doorway.

They began to stumble to their feet and lurch towards them.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Steve said, because cursing seemed very appropriate in this situation. He lined up carefully and took them out with clean rounds to the head.

This seemed to have been a very bad idea, as a growing moaning outside the door and uncoordinated pounding told him that the noise was drawing others.

There was nothing for it. He threw the strap of his go bag over his shoulder and went out the window onto the fire escape.

He looked down at the masses on the street below him. He was going to have to fight his way through it, there was no doubt about that. He wished he had his shield with him.

He wished he had his _team_ with him. He was worried, underneath the focus of a goal and a plan, about what might have happened to them. With no word from SHIELD HQ or the helicarrier, they must be dealing with worse than what was happening here.

He hoped to god someone had triggered an evacuation. He hoped they had made it to Beth.

He shook his head to clear it, and skidded his way down the fire escape. There were almost ten of the things waiting for him at the bottom. He checked his clip, blew out a breath, and jumped.

+

+

By the time Steve cleared the last pile up of cars, he was almost completely out of ammo and was tired. He couldn’t help feeling like he had made it here by cutting down civilians. The fact that these civilians were now very difficult to kill and hell bent on seeing everyone they could reach dead and eaten was a hard thing to assimilate in the face of years of working to protect them.

It was with a slow and weary hand that he pounded on the gates of Anderson Base.

They only opened just wide enough to allow him passage. He found himself, as he slipped through, faced with a line-up of ten men, their guns trained on him, staring him down.

“Hey fellas,” Steve said tentatively, “there a problem?”

“Don’t know, Captain,” the base commander stepped out front, “that depends on you.”

“On me?” Steve could see the focused and steady looks on the faces of the commander’s men. They would shoot if they were ordered. Damned if he knew why though.

“We need to know if you’ve been bit,” the commander said evenly.

“I haven’t,” said Steve quickly.

“Unfortunately, the way things are, we can’t take your word for it. Not even yours Captain.”

“So what do you want me to do?” Steve asked, half in exasperation.

“Strip,” said the commander, “and prove it.”

It was an odd feeling, standing in front of a bunch of armed men, his comrades in arm, stripped to his briefs. It should have felt like a prank, but no one was laughing, and the relief was palpable as he turned around revealing unmarked skin.

“Well,” said the base commander as he pulled his jeans back up, “We’re awfully glad to see you then, Captain.”

He followed the commander inside to their war room, busy with people, a heavy feeling of despair hanging over them as they ran in and out, everyone moving just a little slower, their salutes lacking crisp discipline.

“How much do you know, Captain,” the commander asked as they approached the centre of the room.

“Pretty much nothing,” Steve admitted, “I was undercover. I had heard some rumors of an epidemic out east and then…”

“The end of the world happened?” the commander suggested, “Must have been a shock.”

“A bit,” said Steve dryly, “What can you tell me?”

“It started somewhere in Asia,” he said, tapping at the podium in front of him and causing a red zone to appear over southern China. “It moved through India and the Middle East quickly, and that’s when the rumors started flying. The rich and paranoid started moving around, which only made things worse. Vacation destinations got hit all over, and once it had dispersed that far, there was no stopping it.”

Steve watched in sinking horror as the red crawled across the map, moving west across the U.S.

“If there’s anywhere still clear, it won’t be for long,” he finished dryly.

“What is it?” Steve asked, eyes fixed on the dark swath of red covering New York.

“A plague?” suggested the commander, “Judgement day? No one’s taking the time to study it. S’far as we can tell, the only way to get it is to get bit, but once you are, that’s it. Takes about fifteen minutes, maybe a half hour, and then the only that that’ll take you out is a headshot.”

“What about other bases,” asked Steve, feeling a growing panic creep up on him, “do you have contact?”

“A few,” said the commander, “Alaska’s doing okay. It’s hit them, but apparently the cold slows ‘em down. A couple more holdouts like us, but no command structure left.”

“What about New York?” he asked anxiously.

“Totally wiped out,” he said stiffly, “we had some contact while it was happening…there’s…Well, there’s nothing left.”

They were interrupted by a commotion out near the gate. Without a word, the two men drew their weapons and ran.

Steve ran up the ramp to the top of the wall, his eyes widened as he saw what was coming. Thousands of those things making determined progress towards the gate, and a small group, maybe 20 or so, of civilians trapped between the closed barrier and certain death.

The base commander came running up behind him.

“Awwww, shit,” he swore with emphasis.

“We gotta let ‘em in quick,” said Steve.

“Captain,” said the commander, “we can’t let them in.”

Steve was floored. The release for the gate was right next to him.

“Look at them,” said the commander, reading his expression and stepping between him and the release. “They’ve been bit.”

Steve could see wounds and pale sweating faces.

“Not all of them,” he said fiercely.

“You willing to risk the lives of everyone in this base on the idea that you can handle this?” he asked Steve. It was a rhetorical question, he knew, but damn Anderson base if they thought they were going to lose their humanity along with all this human life.

“Yes,” he said, easily pushing the commander aside and he opened the gates.

In the time it took to let the group in and close the gate behind them, Steve began to realise with a horrifying finality just what he had done.

The soldiers at the gates were trying to contain the group, but they were pressing in. A shot was fired into the air, but instead of controlling the crowd they panicked and scattered.

By the time Steve had reached the ground, there were bitten civilians making their way through the base.

They were turning faster, and it didn’t take more than 10 minutes before the plan shifted from get control, to get out.

By the time Steve and those who remained had made it clear in a transport truck, instead of saving the few civilians that might have been uninfected, he had been responsible for the deaths of more than 50 men and women and the destruction of the last standing military outpost on the west coast. And the base commander, who was the only one who knew what he had done, was just one more drop in the deluge of blood on his hands.

When they pulled to a stop up in the hills, Steve jumped out of the back of the truck and for the first time since Project Rebirth, he was sick. Heaving until his throat burned with it.

It was growing dark, and the seven men who had made it out were making plans. They were looking to him for leadership.

He was hopelessly unable to lead in this world. There was no room for heroes anymore, no point in putting yourself on the line to save others, no going back for your buddies, no grenades to jump on, and not a shred of moral ground.

Steve left silently in the middle of the night.

+

+

He started heading east, finding an abandoned motorcycle, scavenging some gas, and weaving around cars and corpses on side roads.

It wasn’t so much that he thought there’d be anything to find there, but it was the only place he remembered knowing who to be and if he was going to die, that seemed as good a place as any.

Guns and ammo weren’t particularly hard to find, but he learned quickly that it just drew more of them. He picked up a few braces of throwing knives in ­­­­a small town just off the highway and moved more quietly.

He made it as far as Salt Lake before it struck him, sharp and sudden, that his plans were for shit now.

He was pulling over a hill into Salt Lake. His bike was starting to struggle. Gas wasn’t all that hard to come by, but he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to find a mechanic somewhere along the road.

That would be a moot point, though, unless he could find a way out of this one.

Just over the hill, heading in his direction, was what must once have been most of the population of Utah. Walking corpses as far as the eye could see, moving in lurching concert like a herd of cattle. Options started turning over in Steve’s head. Heading east was out. Even if he got around this, if this was how they behaved in groups, the east coast with its dense population was probably impassable.

He could go west, but there was only so much ground between him and the ocean. He was curious to know what would happen when the herd hit the coast, although he had a fair idea based on the way it curved around the shore of salt lake in a clean line, pushing the rest towards the south.

The clear choice was to head north. His com link had long since run out of charge, but he had written the last message down. A set of coordinates somewhere in northern Canada.

When nothing more had been forthcoming, Steve had assumed that no one had made it to whatever was at the location or, if anyone had, the plague had made it there with them.

Now though, with his plan of heading east out the window, it was as good a place to go as any.

He started moving northeast. His bike broke down the next day, so he went on foot for two days without sleep to make sure he stayed ahead of the herd behind him.

They never got tired, they didn’t slow down, they never wavered in their course.

It was 50-50, he supposed, whether they went north or south when they hit the coast. But luck wasn’t exactly on his side these days. It took about a week before the herd made it. Steve was well up the coast, but he had found a high vantage point where he could see the hard dark line on the horizon.

He waited until he could see the herd stopping, twisting and bulging in a disorganised mass, and finally heading north.

He moved north as quickly as he could. There was no getting out of the way of the herd until he could get up into the mountains, and he would prefer to avoid the hard climb for as long as he could.

He jogged steadily north, gaining more and more distance on the walking horror behind him. He stayed clear of the coast, keeping his distance from the more densely populated regions near the water. But he was forced closer as he went, the mountains hemming him in.

He walked across the border into Canada without knowing it until he came across an elementary school with a ragged Canadian flag out front.

The sun was setting and the suburb seemed relatively quiet, so it seemed like a reasonable place to stop for the night.

He had to take down less than a dozen walkers to make his way into the school’s office, where he was able to barricade enough doors to make him feel safe enough to lie down and close his eyes.

+

+

He was jolted into wakefulness, the barest beginnings of light at the horizon telling him it was still the very small hours of the morning. There were three walkers sluggishly pawing at the thick glass in front of him, which must have been what woke him, but now that he was awake, he could hear a low steady hum of shuffling and moaning that told him more were coming from somewhere.

He shook off the weariness with a sigh. Make a bit of noise and smell human enough, eventually the walkers behind slightly open doors and around corners would make their way out. He couldn’t see them yet, so it was probable he could make a clean getaway. He pulled on his pack and his weapons and moved to the barricaded door.

He froze.

As he got closer to the window, he saw that the source of the noise wasn’t _distant_ , it was just small. Probably 20 children, or what used to be children, were between him and the exit.

He sat down, letting the door block his view, dropping his head into his hand and taking a deep breath.

These things weren’t people anymore. Even people weren’t people anymore, based on the few he’d seen on the road, willing to kill and steal to survive. He wasn’t even sure _he_ was a person anymore.

By the time he had cut his way through to the clean morning air outside, Steve couldn’t feel a thing. There was a blank and empty numbness sitting low in his gut, and he embraced it. God help him it was easier than thinking about the blank, empty stares of small faces, the world devoid of human life stretching out infinitely around him, the wall of death marching steadily north towards him.

It made it easier, not to feel. He stopped being so careful. He made more noise, fired bullets rather than waiting for striking distance, burst into stores and homes and buildings without any recon. Dropping through a broken skylight into a downtown mall without stopping to think about how _many_ people a mall can hold.

He was almost grateful as he did the math, running through the cluttered halls. There were too many of them, there was no way to get clear in time. He was running out of knives. Whatever it was of his previous life that still stuck to him meant that he was going to go down fighting, but he was ready to go down.

And then, in the middle of it all, a figure dropped down into vision, bright eyes, blades drawn, fierce with focus. And Steve could only feel tired, because all she meant to him in that one fleeting moment before the reality of _other people_ registered with him, was that he couldn’t rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betcha didn't expect the update to be THAT rapid! Boom! Surprise productivity!!! :) Thanks again to Merideath, Nessismore, and Katertots!


	11. I may not lead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't walk behind me; I may not lead. Don't walk in front of me; I may not follow. Just walk beside me and be my friend.
> 
> ― Albert Camus

There was no reaction when Steve finished his story. Hill went on to talk about what their teams had been doing, areas they had raided, areas they had cleared.

Darcy was staring at Steve. Steve was very deliberately not meeting her gaze. She didn’t understand how these people who were supposed to know him couldn’t understand how broken he was.

She had known that he was hardened, disconnected. But by the way he sometimes let his guard down to the kids, to her, she knew he hadn’t always been.

“Any questions?” Hill interrupted her train of thought.

“Who’s here?” asked Steve, sharp and immediate, “beyond this room.”

“Banner,” said Natasha immediately, “no one else.”

“No one…” Steve trailed off, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly. “How…”

“Thor’s alright,” cut in Clint quickly. “He left us a note.”

“A note?” asked Steve incredulously.

“He’d seen this before,” Natasha cut in, “Seen it take down whole planets. Asgard locked down the bridge. They were taking no risks. Can’t blame them, seeing what’s happened here.”

“Jane?” Darcy barely dared to ask.

“With Thor,” said Hill, “based on what he left us, he was planning to get her to safety and come back before they closed the bridge, but he didn’t make it in time.”

“Good,” said Darcy finally, “I’m glad they’re safe.”

“Stark?” asked Steve.

Hill shook her head, “He was loading the quinjet when we were escaping the tower,” she said, “He went back for Rhodie and never made it.”

“He was never going to,” said Nat, “not after Pepper. She went in the first wave.”

“…and Beth?” Steve asked finally. Darcy turned to look at him curiously.

“She was on our evac list,” said Clint, “even though…” he trailed off.

“We went looking Steve,” said Nat, “but we were too late.”

Steve nodded with exaggerated evenness. And there was an extended pause.

“So,” said Hill finally, “will you help?”

Steve answered at once, “Of course,” he said “so long as Darcy and the kids are safe here, I’ll go out.”

“Hey,” said Darcy sharply, “you don’t get to answer for me.”

Steve looked at her in honest bewilderment, which was quickly tipping her from surprise over into anger.

“I’m of more use to you out there than I am in here, right?” she asked Hill. Hill nodded. “So I’m going out.”

“Darcy…” Steve started.

“Don’t,” she interrupted sharply, “let me know when I can start,” she said, turning back to Hill.

Hill looked at them evenly for a moment and then nodded. “We’ll get you and you kids sorted out with a schedule tomorrow and then we’ll train you on our equipment. Dismissed.”

Darcy got the feeling she was trying to forestall any more argument from Steve. It was a good idea. She got up at once and walked briskly down the hall, attempting some avoidance of her own.

“Darcy,” Steve’s voice called out behind her.

She kept walking.

“Darcy,” he tried again, jogging to catch up with her. She didn’t stop until his hand on her shoulder forced her to.

“What,” she cut out sharply. She was somewhat gratified to see the brief flash of hurt in his eyes before he locked it down.

“You don’t need to do this,” he said calmly.

“Yeah? Well neither do you.” She said crossing her arms.

He opened and then closed his mouth, and then said “I’m no good for anything else. It’s what I’m built for.”

“You think I’m good for anything else anymore?” Darcy asked sharply “Killing those things is all I’ve done for the last seven months.”

“You’re good for the kids,” said Steve firmly. “And I thought we were…” she would almost have missed the way his fingertips reached out and whispered across the skin of her wrist if she hadn’t been glaring at him.

“Thought we were _what_ Steve,” something was boiling up inside of her. “Because I thought we were _partners_ , I thought we’d be out keeping people safe _together_.”

“You could just…be _normal_ again,” he tried a bit plaintively.

“There isn’t any goddam normal left Steve,” she railed at him, “Not for me. You think I can just sit around here and be pitied? In fact, why don’t _you_ stay here, keep pretending you’ve got it under control, because last time I checked, you were the one whose friends survived, you’re the one who has people who remember who you were before you became whatever the hell you are now. If you’re going to fucking leave me on my own here, you could at least leave me the one goddam thing I know how to do, because I’ll be _fucked_ if I know how to be normal anymore.”

“Darcy…” Steve tried, but she could feel a sob creeping up her throat, and she didn’t much feel like sharing her feelings with him anymore. She turned on her heel and walked away.

She was so busy being angry that she didn’t see Clint Barton until she literally ran straight into him as he came around the corner.

“Woah,” he said, startled as he steadied her with firm hands on her shoulders.

“Sorry,” said Darcy tightly, stopping away and moving to the side to let him pass.

He looked at her narrowly, “What’s up Lewis?” his tone was light, but she could see from his crossed arms and firm stance that he wasn’t going to be brushed off.

Besides, she though letting out a deep sigh, she didn’t really want to brush him off.

“Steve Rogers is a pain in my ass,” she said hotly. It didn’t feel as satisfying as she had thought it would.

Clint smirked at her. “You know, I do recall that about him. What’d he do?”

“Doesn’t want me to fight, wants me to stay at home with the children.”

Clint gave her an unreadable look. “Wanna come hit things?”

+

+

“You didn’t say hit the Black Widow,” said Darcy cuttingly to Clint as she stood barefoot across a mat from said superhero.

“You wouldn’t have said yes,” Clint drawled from where he stood propped against the wall.

“And I’m very curious to see your style.” Natasha finished, “No training, only what you learned on your feet.”

“I’m not sure that’s gonna hold up against you” she said, bouncing on her toes nervously.

“I don’t really expect it to,” said Natasha evenly, “but that does mean you have nothing to teach me. Stop talking, start fighting.”

Natasha held her ground, waiting for Darcy to move.

Fine, if the Black Widow wanted to see how she fought, she would fight. She took a careful sidestep, low and ready to move. She watched how Natasha mirrored her. She took a step back and Natasha moved in. She watched as Natasha tracked her slow and deliberate shifting of weight, and then she launched herself, lightening quick, pivoting on her heel so that her hand struck from the opposite side Natasha was expecting.

If she had had her knife, she would have sliced the other woman’s neck open. As it was, both her hand and Natasha’s collar bone were going to be purple tomorrow.

“Shiiiiiittt,” exclaimed Clint in excitement, “She _hit_ you Tasha.”

“It was…unexpected,” Natasha admitted a bit crossly, “But it won’t work again.”

“Only needs to work once, out there,” said Darcy easily.

“Explain it to me,” Tasha said, “what you did. Why. You were testing me.”

“Testing?” blinked Darcy in confusion, “no I was just treating you like one of them.”

Natasha cocked her head in a silent question.

Darcy had to grin, “Boy you guys really have been sheltered, although I suppose,” she went on almost to herself, “that you probably never moved slow enough to figure it out.”

Natasha raised her eyebrow “They shadow you. That’s what you were doing”

“Yeah,” agreed Darcy, “although it’s not really shadowing, they won’t track your movement. They just pick up your…demeanor, I guess. If you move quick and unexpected, so do they. So if you are slow and predictable right up until you’re not…”

“You’ll get em in the neck,” Clint cut in with a grin.

“Exactly,” she agreed.

Natasha rolled her eyes, “I dare you to try it again Lewis.”

Darcy thought that fighting with the Black Widow, really sparring, was like being in a hurricane. She could hardly tell where the other woman was moving around her, but when she hit it was like a freight train.

Clint, on the other hand, fought like a limpet. It was impossible to get free of him to make any kind of move. After the fifth time she found herself on the mat, his knee locked around her hips and his arm around her throat, she called uncle.

“Okay, okay I get it,” she muttered, “I’ve got a lot to learn about fighting the living.”

“Yeah,” said Clint, relaxing behind her and unravelling his holds, “but I bet you feel better.”

She was _just_ about to agree with him when Steve walked into the gym and stopped short, looking at her with an unreadable expression.

If she had to guess, though, she’d put her money on him being really upset that she was training with Clint and Natasha.

She rolled to her feet, all her loose, warm energy tightening in a heartbeat.

“Steve,” Natasha interrupted the growing tension with a smile. “We were just field testing Darcy. She’s good.”

“Course she is,” Steve sounded a bit gruff but she was surprised at his response. “Survived, didn’t she?”

“Pulled your ass out of the fire too, sounds like.” Clint said, strolling over and clapping Steve on the shoulder in a casual display of physicality that looked like habit. Darcy wondered if Clint could see the way Steve flinched away from it.

His mouth ticked up into a bit of a grin though, “Suppose that’s what I get for thinking the mall’d be any safer for me in the apocalypse.”

Natasha let out a short, sharp laugh, then reading Darcy’s raised eyebrow said “Steve got recognised in a mall once, caused a bit of a riot. He had to call in an extraction.”

“It’s a good think there always seems to be a ruthlessly efficient woman around to pull my ass out of the fire,” Steve said evenly.

He wasn’t looking at her, but Darcy got the distinct impression that he’d just put her in the same boat as the black widow. It felt like an apology.

“We’ve got something for you,” Natasha said suddenly, breaking the silence that was stretching out between them, “if you want it.” She was looking at Steve cautiously.

“What?” he asked, his eyes taking a moment to turn to Natasha, like he was reluctant to look away from her.

Natasha didn’t answer, she just walked over to a weapons locker against one wall. Without any kind of ceremony, she pulled open the heavy door. On the back of it, glinting bright and clean in the florescent lights, was Captain America’s shield.

She could hear Steve’s breath catch in his throat as he took one quick step towards it.

“How?” he asked, moving forward slowly, almost tentatively.

“It was in the tower,” said Clint, “and we couldn’t bear the thought of leaving it.”

“Thank you,” Steve breathed out, one hand reaching out to rest against the smooth metal surface. Clint and Natasha stood flanking him like they belonged there. They looked good together, _right_. Like a team.

Darcy slipped out of the gym before they noticed her going.

+

+

There was still a chilly silence between her and Steve at breakfast the next morning. It started when Tess, chirping excitedly about how someone was taking the kids out to the barn this morning to show them how to milk cows. She paused long enough to ask Darcy what she was doing.

Darcy cut a sideways glace at Steve, “Well, I’m going to talk to Director Hill about what I can do to help out with what they’re doing out there.”

Tess stilled, “you mean you’re gonna go back outside?” seven faces turned to look at her sharply.

“Yes,” she said firmly, “We got so lucky, and we’ve got a really good place here, but what if there are other people like us out there? And what happens when you guys grow up and start having babies,” She grinned at the disgusted look on Eric’s face. “We won’t have enough room here forever. “

She could _feel_ Steve watching her but she studiously avoided meeting his gaze.

“You’ll take the Captain with you?” Katy asked carefully.

“I won’t go out alone,” Darcy responded evenly.

The younger kids seemed mollified, but she thought that Katy and Jack were looking at her suspiciously.

This was confirmed when they cornered her in the hallway after breakfast.

“What’s going on Darce,” Jack asked without preamble, “I mean with you and the Captain.”

Darcy rolled her eyes, “There’s nothing going on, we’re just having a bit of a difference of opinion.”

“Oh my _god_ did he…” Katy started excitedly, but Jack cut her off with a nudge in the side and a sharp look “I mean, about what?” she finished unconvincingly.

Darcy raised an eyebrow at her, “He doesn’t want me to go out and make myself useful. What did you think it was about?”

“Oh, just…pretty much that…”

Darcy was skeptical, and curious, but they all had places to be.

Katy had quickly been placed in charge teaching of a group of the younger kids. There was too much to _do_ to keep a place like this running to have them in school all day, but for four hours every afternoon, between helping out with the fields or the farms or the kitchens or the maintenance in the morning and physical training in the evenings, they got to be kids again.

Jack, Hill had said, was old enough that he could look around a bit, see what he wanted to do. He seemed to be taking a shine to an older man named Richard who was in charge of maintaining ground vehicles. Darcy was just glad that his attachment to Katy seemed to have kept him away from trying to get out in the field.

She, however, had to go to the war room.

Hill walked in with focus and energy. She took a long look at Darcy and Steve, carefully separated by several chairs, and looked like she was barely restraining herself from rolling her eyes.

“Here’s where we are,” Hill said without introduction, clicking a remote that brought up a map on the one wall of the room. “And here are the areas we’ve cleared and raided out” a blue circle with irregular edges moved outwards from the Sanctuary’s location.

“Based on your information,” Hill nodded at Steve and Darcy, “this is where we think the herd is” a patch of red appeared in the valleys to the south. “So here are our key raiding zones,” a series of green dots appeared, “There are all the known population centres within our current range. We’ve got patrols running the blue zone and trackers set. Once we drop a team into a green zone, they clear it and then our patrols move out, clearing the path in and setting trackers. Once they arrive, they’ll clean the place out and add the territory to the blue zone.”

“Sounds so neat and tidy when you lay it out like that,” grumbled Darcy.

“It’s been 7 months and we’ve lost a total of three people,” she said tightly, “so I’d say we’re doing alright.”

Darcy shut her mouth.

“Unfortunately,” said Hill, “those three people were effectively the rest of our advance teams. We have some people who are training hard, and I’ll be comfortable dropping them into green zones eventually but…”

“You’re comfortable dropping us in now,” Steve finished for her.

Hill nodded. “Barton and Romanov could use some slack in their schedule.”

“What do you mean drop?” asked Darcy suddenly.

“We might as well head to the hanger now,” said Hill, “and I’ll show you.”

The hanger was out near the top of the switchback trail leading down to the larger fields. Inside, it smelled of grease and burnt ozone. It was dark and the atmosphere was close, like the windows were rarely open. A hunched figure sat over a work bench carefully sorting through tiny parts. Darcy thought he looked familiar.

“Dr. Banner,” Hill called out in an oddly gentle voice, “I’ve brought our new advance team.”

He turned to face them. Darcy could tell by the way Steve was tight and tense beside her, his hands clenched but a forced smile on his face, that he had already been here, seen Bruce Banner gaunt and haunted, seen the way there was nothing below his right knee but a neatly pinned up pant leg.

Darcy swallowed heavily.

“Dr. Banner,” she said, “Darcy Lewis, I think we met once before…everything.”

His eyes flicked up to her, but he barely acknowledged her. Instead he picked up a crutch and swung over to what looked like a rack of long and heavy backpacks.

“These are the ‘Last Marks’,” he said gruffly and without preamble. “We cobbled them together from glide suits and the two Iron Man suits that made it here with us. They have good range, but they run on a battery not an arc reactor, so the more you glide the farther you can go. They are designed to be intuitive to use, there’s no manual, so just put it on. You’ll figure it out.”

He turned back to his lab bench.

“Seriously?” muttered Darcy, “we’ll figure it out?”

Steve raised an eyebrow at her, “You know,” he said carefully, “you can always choose to stay…”

Darcy glared at him and before he could go on, she hoisted one of the packs onto her back, marched out into the open space beyond the hanger, and slammed her hand against the radiant button on the chest strap of the pack.

Immediately, a mechanism unfolded down her harms, locking repulsors to her palms, two wings unfolded with a smooth click and she could feel a wash of repulsor energy at her back. “I’ll figure it out,” she said hotly to Steve, who was scrambling into the other pack. She wasn’t about to wait for him though. She sent up a silent prayer, held her breath, and pushed down with her hands.

She shot off the ground with an unexpected burst of speed. There were a few terrifying and disorienting moments of tumbling and spinning and then she figured out how to coordinate the tilt of her shoulders and the angle of her hand and she was _flying_.

She let out a whoop of delight, banking through the chilled morning air.

For a brief moment, hung from the sky by a few pounds of metal and plastic, the wind whipping past her, she looked over and saw the expression of exhilaration on Steve's face, and she was sure it matched her own. She didn't know what it said about them, because this certainly couldn't be particularly safe. Darcy at least had absolutely no background that could prepare her for this. But for that moment, they were perfectly in synch.

It made her spirits fall, after that, to hear that she would be going out with Clint, and not Steve, on her first drop. But then she hardened herself against it, and remembered that Steve didn't want her out there at all. Hardly conducive to a good working relationship in the field.

+

+

It wasn't a particularly dangerous green zone. She and Clint were dropping into an old logging station. There wouldn't even have been more than a dozen people there, so odds were there would be no more than a dozen walkers.

Still, she was feeling jittery as they tramped out to the edge of the blue zone with the Last Marks strapped on.

She had a hell of a lot more to lose now, she supposed.

They glided to a stop just outside of a small building, the corrugated tin roof already starting to rust. She drew her blade and followed Clint to the door as he cocked his head, apparently hearing something within. He stopped calmly, just outside the door, waved his hand at her and shot her a look she didn't understand.

"What?” she asked, confused.

Almost at once, the rusted door burst outwards and three walkers tumbled over it, reaching for Clint who was now pinned underneath the door.

"There are walkers behind the door," shouted Clint sarcastically as he struggled to reach the skull of the closest one with his blade before it could get its teeth on him.

"Sorry!" Darcy called out as she ran up to the flailing mass of limbs and plunged her knife into the back of one rotten neck, hauling the corpse off the door. It was enough to let Clint struggle free and they dispatched the other two easily.

"For future reference," said Clint "this" he repeated the hand motion "means walkers. And also try not to start talking really loud when I'm obviously using hand signals for a reason."

"I'm really sorry," Darcy said, feeling about two feet tall, "I wasn't thinking."

"S'okay” said Clint easily as she helped him off the ground, "We should have gone over a few things like that before we left. It's been a really long time since I worked with anyone but Natasha."

"Plus, you know, I'm a little short on all that military slash super spy training," Darcy said sheepishly.

"Still pretty handy in a tight spot though," said Clint with a friendly clap on the shoulder. "Now come on, let’s get the sensors set and get the hell outta here."

They were trudging through the last few kilometers of trails into the Sanctuary, saving battery power, before he said anything else about it.

"You know you really ought to nut up and deal with Rogers," he said with studied casualness.

"Why do you care," Darcy shot back, meaner than she intended.

"Because I'm not the one you should be out here with," said Clint unfazed, "he is. He's your partner. And also," Clint quirked an odd smile at her, "he's been going at me awfully hard in the gym since I started hanging around with you."

"He doesn't want me out here at all, let alone with him," Darcy cut back.

"He wants you safe," Clint countered, "Is that really so bad? Haven’t you punished him long enough for expressing his concern in the wrong way?"

Darcy blew out a sigh, "You make me sound like an asshole."

"Well, you are Lewis," he said with a grin, "but so is he."

Darcy rolled her eyes, "Fine, I'll talk to him."

+

+

She found him later that night, sitting watch high on the south wall, leaning against the thick cement guard, looking out over the still, dark mountains.

"Hey," she said quietly as she approached, knowing he would have heard her coming.

"You're not on watch," was his tight response.

"No," she said gritting her teeth against his tone, "I came to talk to you."

He didn't answer for a while. "How was the drop today," he finally asked.

"Fine," she answered, "Well, sort of fine. That's what I wanted to talk about actually."

He turned to her sharply, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine," she said, the genuine and immediate concern on his face cutting through her ire.

Steve let out a breath, running a hand through his hair. "Sorry," he said finally.

Darcy raised an eyebrow, "That I'm okay?"

He rolled his eyes at her, "Of course not" he said, "I'm sorry I tried to make you stay here."

"Oh," said Darcy. And then after a moment, "Well I'm sorry for being so unreasonable about it. I guess I can be pretty good at holding a grudge."

"Suppose we can both be stubborn assholes," he said, leaning back against the wall.

"You know, that's pretty much exactly what Clint said." Steve looked at her stiffly. "S'also probably what makes the other thing he said true as well."

“What's that,” he asked warily."

"We're partners," she said simply, "we should be out there together."

"Partners," he repeated a bit blankly. And then, “yeah, yeah, okay." the corner of his mouth turned up, "At least that way I can keep an eye on you."

"Better you than Clint," said Darcy, leaning against the wall, "Just about got him bit today because he used a weird hand signal and I said ‘what’. Turns out the hand signal meant ‘quiet, there are undead behind the door’."

"I'll have to keep that in mind," said Steve with a raised eyebrow.

"Well I know _your_ hand signals," she said with a roll of her eyes."

Steve grinned at her.

"So,” Darcy started carefully, “I never got to say, because of....everything, that I'm...you know...sorry."

"For what?" Steve asked, bemused.

"For everything that happened to you before..." she trailed off at the look on his face.

Steve turned, looking back out over the wall. She moved beside him, leaning on her forearms.

"Yeah, well," he said finally "s'probably not the worst story out there."

"It's bad enough," Darcy said quietly. "Who's Beth?"

Steve physically started, his hands gripping the rough surface of the wall.

"Sorry," said Darcy immediately, "you don't need to talk about it. I just thought...I mean, no one here seems to ask you about stuff...I mean, about how you're doing..." she trailed off awkwardly.

Steve sighed, "Well, I'm their CO. It's my job to be okay."

"You're not my CO," Darcy said.

Steve let out an odd little huffing laugh, "No, I don't think anyone would disagree with you on that."

Darcy let the conversation fall off for a moment. He would talk about it if he wanted to.

"Beth was..." he started, and then paused again, "I was...seeing her, I guess. Wasn't doing a very good job of it. Never made the time. She cut it off just before I left on my last mission before...everything. I wasn't fair to her. I just never got the chance to...."

"Say you're sorry?" Darcy suggested when he trailed off.

"Sounds stupid," Steve said morosely.

"No," said Darcy firmly, "I think the regrets, the things you left unfinished that are never going to _get_ finished, are the worst."

Steve didn't answer, but he slid his hand over just an inch until his fingertips brushed against her arm.

"You know," Darcy went on, "it keeps me up at night sometimes that I am never gonna finish my PhD thesis."

Steve laughed, “You mean now that the fear of imminent death isn't keeping you up at night?"

Darcy grinned, elbowing him gently in the arm. "Shut up, it's a reasonable regret."

"Whatever you say, Doc." Steve guided her offending elbow away from him, leaning back on the wall, their forearms pressed together, fingers brushing. They stood there in comfortable silence watching the stars grow brighter and brighter in the night sky.

+

+

She didn't realise how much she had missed being in synch with Steve until she got it back. There was something a bit different about it, now though. Probably the sudden lack of crushing terror and constant threat of imminent death. She could feel the close knot that had been winding itself tighter and tighter in her gut was starting to unspool. Interactions weren't just about survival anymore.

For example, Eric was acting out in school.

"Garret wants to talk to us," Darcy said as she and Steve were walking towards the gym. Clint was training both of them to use a bow.

"To us?" Steve asked, sounding surprised. "He wants to talk to me?"

"Yeah, of course," said Darcy, “why wouldn't he?"

"Oh. I mean, of course I'll come if you want...I just wouldn't want to...overstep."

He looked awkward in a way she was coming to realise meant that he was unsure, didn't know what the rules were, or at least wasn't sure he should break them. She had never seen that side of him before, outside. She found it oddly endearing. There was nothing about the man she had met in the city all those months ago that she would have called endearing. It was nice to see.

"Hey," she said with a grin, "you got saddled with those kids same as me. You're not getting out of it now."

"Alright," he said evenly, but the uncertainty fell away from his face.

They walked on in silence for a few moments.

"You know," said Steve conversationally, "maybe it's a good thing."

"Hmm?"

"Eric, I mean," Steve went on. "That's what kids do, right? I mean, when things are normal?"

Something about it struck her like a ton of bricks. It was the most positivity she'd ever heard from Steve, but it landed on her like the end of the world. Because if her kids could start dealing and adjusting, it meant that she was going to have to too.

She had spent every waking moment and most of her sleeping ones worrying about other people, how to keep them safe, how to survive, and she had just shoved everything else away. Her ears were ringing, and she realised that she had stopped walking, and Steve was calling her name.

"Sorry," she gasped as his hand closed around her arm. "I can't...I have to..." she turned around and walked away before she could lose her control any farther.

It was only ten minutes later that she heard a quiet knock on her door. She took a deep breath. She wasn't crying. She hadn't got to that point yet. She was still lost in the vast emptiness of the things that weren't there anymore, what she didn't have.

She opened the door warily, and was oddly relieved and disappointed to find Clint on the other side.

"Steve sent me," he said pushing past her and sitting on her bed without waiting to be invited. "Said you'd lost your focus."

"My focus?" she asked absently.

"You figured out you're not on the mission anymore," he clarified.

"Oh," she sat heavily next to him. "Yeah. I guess. One of the kids is in trouble at school, and it's just so...."

"Normal?"

"But everyone else is still dead," she choked out.

"Yes," said Clint evenly, "they are."

"How do you...." she couldn't even finish the question.

"You just do," said Clint. "No other option."

"You're a real help Barton," she said darkly.

"Well I told Steve he should come himself, but I think he's got it into his head that you like me better."

Darcy let out a damp laugh.

"Yeah," agreed Clint with a wry grin, "he was always kind of an idiot about this stuff. Listen, come down to the gym. We won’t say a thing if you have to get all emotional, but I always find that some carefully aimed violence does wonders."

"Alright,” Darcy agreed, for lack of any other ideas. Maybe he was right, maybe it did help push back the darkness to know you could fight against it. She pulled herself to her feet. “And, for the record Barton, I like you just fine."


	12. Tell me about despair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You do not have to be good.   
> You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.  
> You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.  
> Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.   
> Meanwhile the world goes on. 
> 
> \- Wild Geese (Mary Oliver)

There was an atmosphere of excitement in the air. In the day after day endless monotony of life at the Sanctuary, it didn't take much.

Natasha and Clint, on their last raid, had happened upon an extensive collection of old movie reels and had decided, in an uncharacteristic fit of whimsy, to haul a bunch of them back to the Sanctuary.

 Entertainment had regressed a few generations since the world ended. Everyone's iPhones had long since run out of power, there was no wifi signal to connect to because servers and cell towers and networks had all fallen into ruin, the appeal of first person shooter video games had somewhat lessened in the face of reality. Generally, people read books. They talked to other people in a way that Darcy hadn't realised was missing from her generation. Sure, there was a heck of a lot more awkward small talk now that there was no texting, but there was also a lot more unfiltered sharing. It was harder to edit a conversation than a blog post.

Basically, no one had seen a movie in over 8 months now. They were pretty excited.

When Hill had announced that they would be setting up a screen in the central courtyard, people who had nothing but gardening, farming, and loss to think about all day suddenly started thinking about a party. Hill was getting requests of all kinds. Could there be music? Do you want some of us to work up some decorations? Can we let everyone out of evening drills to get ready?

 Hill related this with a quirked eyebrow at a command meeting, saying "It was a good idea," with a nod towards Clint and Natasha, "Morale has never been higher. And it’s about time we stopped pretending all this was temporary."

Darcy, however, was finding it a bit difficult to get into a party mood. Nevertheless, she dutifully tucked away bits of clothing, fabric, thread, and jewelry she found on raids. Usually this sort of thing was low priority, but right now Darcy was looking at an entire month free from KP for all the favors she had gained. Steve just rolled his eyes at her when he saw her doing it. She was pretty sure he hadn't meant her to see him surreptitiously handing Katy a pilfered party dress under the table at the mess hall.

When the evening came around, Darcy found herself quite bored. Hill had somewhat reluctantly cancelled the evening drills, and everyone was off "getting ready", although Darcy could not fathom any kind of "getting ready" someone could do anymore that took more than 10 minutes.

She quickly re-evaluated when Katy pushed through her door without knocking. "Ah ha!" she exclaimed triumphantly. "I knew you wouldn't have planned ahead for this."

“Katy," Darcy exclaimed, blinking at her, "How did you...I mean, you look...wow." Her hair was braided up around her head, colorful bits of fabric woven in creating a circlet. The dress Steve had found for her swinging around her knees in bright purple folds. It even looked like she had begged borrowed or stolen some eyeliner from somewhere.

 "I know, right?" she said gleefully. "Jack is gonna freak out."

Darcy grinned so wide that she almost brought tears to her eyes. She got a sudden flash of the girl Katy would have been if all this hadn't happened to her. She looked uncomplicated; a 16 year old girl going to a dance with her boyfriend.

"Totally," Darcy agreed with her. "You look beautiful." She reached out and squeezed the younger girl’s  hand, blinking the moisture out of her eyes.

"Hey," said Katy stepping closer, and squeezing back with an over excited grin, "don't get all emotional, we've only got a half hour to get you ready."

"Ready?" Darcy asked blankly, looking down at her clean and unstained fatigue pants and t-shirt, the lack of tears and a shower her only concession to the event.

Katy pulled a small black bundle out from behind her back. "Steve gave me this," she said with a pointed look.  “He said, and I quote, ‘because sometimes I think she’s forgotten about herself’ end quote." Darcy had to grin at her gruff impersonation of the Captain, even as she bemusedly reached out for the package.

She shook out the small bundle.

It wasn't really that incredible of a dress. None of the drop teams had been anywhere close to a major city in the last little while, so there was no high end fashion to be had, but it was clean and unworn, a dusty tag still attached at the neckline. And Steve had thought to find it for her, and had managed to do it without her knowing. She felt an odd little burble of unaccustomed warmth rising in her belly.

Apparently, she realised as she slipped it on, Steve also had a really good eye for what would fit her.

The black fabric hung heavy to her knees, the waist of it clinging tightly to her ribs, the rounded neckline and cap sleeves making her feel like her still too prominent collar bones were graceful rather than gawky.

Katy whistled at her. "Holy crap Darce."

"Language," Darcy shot back automatically, but then, "I used to know how to clean up okay," with a grin.

"Okay?" Katy said incredulously, "the Captain is going to lose it."

Darcy rolled her eyes. She had started to get the distinct impression that Katy was matchmaking, that urge that always seemed to come upon people when they were happy with a partner.

"I highly doubt the Captain is going to have much of a reaction beyond how difficult it’s gonna be to hide a blade in this thing."

"Uh huh," said Katy. "Sure."

+

+

She had to laugh when, as Steve knocked on the door of the boy's room where she and Katy and Jack had gathered up the younger kids for inspection before they headed out, he took one look at her and immediately asked "Where on earth did you manage to hide a blade?"

The look on his face, though, when she picked up the hem of the skirt to show him the bottom of the sheath strapped to her thigh, made her stop laughing.

They followed behind the laughing, noisy pack of kids – their kids she supposed – as they walked out into the courtyard.

"You look nice," said Steve quietly beside her.

"Thank you," she said, "for the dress."

Steve shrugged, "Seemed to be the thing to do." But he looked relaxed, and ever so slightly self-satisfied, as they found a clear spot on the grass. The younger kids were immediately off and running. Trish and Tess had developed an odd, and somewhat worrying, sort of social credential with the younger girls by reason of having been out in the world and seen the walkers up close. Most of the children in the Sanctuary had been evacuated by their parents in the midst of the first panic or from the nearby towns before the panic had even reached them. They were holding court among a group of their friends. 

Eric and Ben and Danny had immediately linked up with the pack of 9 to 12 year old boys that always seemed to be causing trouble some place. Right now it looked like they were trying to scale the barn.

"You think we should stop them," she said to Steve, nodding in their direction.

"Nah," he said, "let ‘em run off some steam. Garret and Susan are watching them if they get too high," he gestured at two of the former shield agents who now were in charge of educating the children. It was nice to be surrounded by people that you could not only trust to be responsible but could take down any of the likely threats out there with their bare hands.

"Well look at you," Clint boomed at them as he and Natasha strolled up. Natasha, apparently, hadn't been sucked into this whole party thing and was dressed in standard pants and a t-shirt. Clint, however, had probably abused his position on a drop team to locate the button down shirt and tie he was wearing. He pulled Darcy to her feet with a wink. "Give us a spin".

Darcy laughed and dutifully made a turn. The skirt spun out around her and Natasha smirked as she caught sight of the blade.

Steve, who was now climbing quickly to his feet, appeared to be a bit red about the neck.

 "You clean up nice Darce," Clint said with a wink. "Might have to ask you for a dance later."

"I'm still not entirely sure how you managed to turn a raid into this...spectacle," said Steve, sounding mildly grumpy. Of course, that was generally an improvement for him.

 

"Long practice," said Natasha with a roll of her eyes, "now hush and sit down. The movie is starting."

The movie started, and at the first swell of the overture Darcy recognised it immediately as My Fair Lady. She sucked in a breath at the sharp memory of curling up on her ratty old sofa with Jane and watching this movie when they were feeling lonely or overwhelmed, or heartsick.

"You okay," Steve whispered to her, leaning close enough that she could feel his heat radiating against her side and his breath on her cheek.

"Yeah," she said evenly, "this movie was always one of my favorites."

"I've never seen it," he said a bit absently, he was looking down at her hand with firm concentration. Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see scattered couples, dancing slowly on the grass. Katy and Jack were among them, and it made her smile.

"Dance with me?" Steve said abruptly, his hand closing over hers.

She looked back to him in surprise, but found herself saying "yes" without giving it any thought.

It felt awkward at first, she had to stretch to reach her arms around his shoulders, his hands settled against her hips stiffly, and Steve didn't seem to have much more in mind than a gentle rocking back and forth. It also felt odd because, since arriving at Sanctuary, she and Steve hadn't really shared space that much.

Out on the road, it had always been almost unconscious or haphazard or instinctual. This was deliberate in a way they hadn't been with each other before. And it was starting that odd stirring sensation in her gut again.

She looked away and caught sight of Katy and Jack, pressed close together. Darcy looked back to the space between her and Steve and couldn't help but let out a short laugh.

"What?" asked Steve quickly, "did I step on you?"

"Not yet," she said with a grin, "it's just we must look like teenagers at our first dance, whereas the actual teenagers..." she trailed off and gestured towards Katy and Jack.

Steve huffed out a low noise that puffed at the hair lying against her neck, and stepped close, his arms circling her waist to rest warm and strong against her lower back. It made it easier to fold her arms around his neck, the easiest thing in the world to let her head fall against his chest.

"Better?" asked Steve, and she could hear his voice rumbling under her cheek.

"Better," she said, pressing her smile into his clean smelling shirt.

"I was never very good at this," he went on.

"At what?"

“Dancing, I suppose," he finished a little awkwardly. "That 17 year old punk is clearly much more practiced," he deflected what had been growing into a drawn out pause by tilting his head towards Jack and Katy.

"We should probably talk to them about that," Darcy said absently, her fingers experimentally curling into the soft hair at the base of his head, as if testing a theory.

"About what?" Steve asked absently, his head falling forward slightly, chin resting on the crown of her head.

"Oh, you know ‘the talk’."

"The...oh...that talk," he stiffened under her hands and, with a grin, she thought she could almost _feel_ the blush creeping up his neck. "I'm sure they'd rather it was you...I mean, I definitely can't talk to Katy about...sex," he almost swallowed the word.

"I think" Darcy said with growing amusement, "that you are misunderstanding the kind of talk I'm planning to have. I'm sure sex-ed and their moms have taught them everything they need to know about the mechanics. But everyone always seems to skip out on all the other stuff before it’s too late."

 "Other stuff?" asked Steve, his tone low and focused now, pulling himself upright so he could look down at her.

Darcy was all of a sudden completely uncertain that she wanted to have this talk with Steve. She realised that they had stopped moving, were just standing there wrapped up in each other in the flickering light from the screen.

"They're just kids," she said finally. "Stuff can get...really messy. And they don't exactly have the same kind of ability to avoid the fallout anymore."

"Right," said Steve a bit stiffly, "but what if they don't? I mean what if things don't get messy for them? They seem...good together, better."

"And that's a hell of a thing throw away just for the sake of getting laid," said Darcy.

Steve moved away with a short jerk, cool night air rushing into the gap between them, and she felt frozen solid.

"Darcy," Tess's shrill voice broke through the moment and she turned to smile down at the little girl. "Trish stole the bow that Katy made for me and she won’t give it back."

Sure enough, Trish was off gleefully sending sticks flying off into a group of older children with the miniature bow that Katy had rigged up once Tess had seen Clint fire his bow and would not shut up about it.

"Well," said Darcy carefully, "she should have asked to use it, shouldn't she? Take three deep breaths and then go tell her that you'd like her to ask before she borrows your things. And I'm sure," Darcy said wryly, "that you will always ask to borrow her things, too.”

By the time Darcy had convinced Tess to use her words, Steve was gone. She could see him, on the far side of the crowd engaged in discussion with one of the newest drop team trainees.

Part of her wanted to go to him, pull him into a corner where they could talk, and figure out why dancing with him had left blood pounding through her ears and a shaky feeling in her limbs that refused to fade.

Another part of her just wanted to run away from anything that could still make her _feel_ like that.

She turned resolutely away from Steve and went to claim her dance from Clint.

+

+

Something had changed.

It shouldn’t have. All they had done was dance.

But something was different.         

She was watching him. Not that she hadn’t always had eyes on him for most of the day. They were partners, they worked the same shifts, ate at the same time, went on the same drops, spent most of their down time with the kids.

But she was watching him in a way that had nothing to do with all of that.

And she was _noticing_ things.

Like the way he rolled up his sleeves when he was teaching the younger kids to disassemble, clean, and re-assemble firearms; the way he was completely unaware of how his shirt would cling to his chest after a run; the way he completely unconsciously treated Katy with the same respect he treated Natasha and Hill and all the other grown women at Sanctuary. She wondered if he could see how it made her stand taller and command the same respect from others.

She wondered if he could see how Eric and Ben and Danny took their cues from him and listened when he spoke.

She wondered if he realised how Tess and Trish always found their way into his orbit when they were feeling scared or uncertain.

She _knew_ he noticed that she was watching. Because he was watching right back.

They had never had a problem discussing plans and tactics and the day to day of living and working in the same place. Even discussing how to go about raising a bunch of half-grown kids was coming easier.

But they clearly had no idea how to be anything other than partners, members of a team working towards a common goal. There were worse things to be, but Darcy wasn’t entirely sure it was going to be enough forever.

It was confusing, the way he watched her, and the way his eyes and mouth tightened when he saw her with an arm around Clint’s shoulder or sparring with him in the gym.

She wished she could tell him that it didn’t mean anything. Being friends with Clint was easy. He was fun and easily affectionate, and remarkably untouched by the way things were, at least around her. And that was the material point. Clint didn’t know _any_ of her shit. Steve knew all of it.

She wished she could tell him that if he took a closer look at the way Clint was around Natasha, he might understand. Everything between to two of them had weight and substance. Every little glance and brush and contact _meant_ something.

She wished that she could explain to Steve the way it _meant_ something when he kept her company on watch, and how he knew when to let her be silent or when to prod her to talk, how he knew when the kids were driving her nuts or when she was driving herself nuts with worry for them.

But she couldn’t, because to do that, she would admit what it meant to herself.

+

+

It should have been an easy drop. Brainless, if you'd pardon the pun. Darcy didn't when Steve had used it, but she had been biting back a grin nonetheless.

It was a ways farther than they had gone before, but that just meant a longer rumbling drive through the passable parts of the mountains and a longer trudge through the impassable parts to get to the edge of the blue zone.

The sleepy little town they landed in must have been nice before it got ransacked. It was quiet. No dead on the street. Long undisturbed layers of dust on interior surfaces. They stopped being so on edge around the third building, carefully inventorying supplies and collecting anything they thought was important enough to take back with them.

The old wooden church at the end of the main street was the last building they hit. The pews were empty and silent, dust motes twisting lazily through the stained glass light.

 And horror in the basement.

They must have packed in there when the infection came, the smell from spoiled food and spoiled human flesh was overpowering, but there wasn't time to think about it, because the minute Steve pulled open the door, they were flooded by dozens and dozens of the dead.

There was no point in being quiet now. She pulled out her gun and started shooting. She heard Steve, barely visible only feet away from her in the throng, doing the same.

It was a heart stopping few minutes until they could clear enough space to move back together, work through the remaining corpses with flashing blades, backs turned to each other in the dark room.

There was a pause as the last body thudded wetly to the cement floor.

"Well," said Darcy a little shakily, "that was bracing."

She bent double, her hands on her knees, breathing heavily as it hit her that this was how Michael died.  He must have been so scared. God, there really was nothing Jack could have done.

"You okay?" Steve was at her side in a heartbeat, his eyes running over the mess of her clothes for any fresh blood.

 "Intact," she said with a thin smile, "it’s just…Michael."

“Yeah,” said Steve with a sharp breath, wrapping his hands around her shoulders and setting her upright.

“Are you okay?” Darcy asked.

 "Fine," he said shortly, pulling his jacket closed over the disgusting mess of his t-shirt. "Let’s get the hell out of here."

 He didn't talk much. It was impossible to talk with the Last Marks screaming on their backs and the wind whipping across their faces; but even once they made it back to the edge of the blue zone, started the slow trip back to the Santuary, he was silent, his body language tight and closed off.

They were almost in sight of the wall before she had had enough.

"Steve" she pulled him to a stop abruptly. "Talk"

“Darcy..." he started, "I..." he closed his mouth again, jaw working, skin pale. Almost clammy looking.

No, not almost. Definitely clammy, a thin sheen of moisture across his brow.

"Steve," she said again, this time reaching out to clutch at his hand. "Steve?"

"Just," he took a deep shaking breath. "I just wanted to make sure you got back safe. I figured with the serum I'd have more time than most." He wasn't looking at her when he pulled back his jacket to reveal the fresh blood of a jagged tear in his right side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh god, I'm sorry guys. So so sorry.


	13. The Time Before Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What you call "salvation" belongs to the time before death  
> If you don't break your ropes while you're alive,  
> do you think ghosts will do it after?  
> The idea that the soul will rejoin with the ecstatic  
> just because the body is rotten--  
> that is all fantasy.  
> What is found now is found then.  
> If you find nothing now,  
> you will simply end up with an apartment in the  
> City of Death.
> 
> \- The Time Before Death (Kabir)

Her ears were ringing; there was grey swimming at the corners of her vision. She felt like she might throw up.

"No," she could barely hear her own voice. She tried again. "No," it came out in a crooked yell.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, taking a step closer to her, his hand unnaturally hot against her cheek as he reached up to brush her hair away from her face. "I wish...I wish we'd had more time."

"Time..." Darcy let out her breath in a rush, "Steve how long has it been?"

He blinked at her slowly, "Almost two hours now," he said.

"It hasn't taken anyone that long to turn since the very beginning." she started dragging him onwards towards the gate.

"Darcy," he said, "please, you know I can't go back there. And I don't want the kids to..."

"Shut up," Darcy cut back at him, "I'm thinking."

He pulled her to a stop just before they came in the sight of the gate. "Please," he said, in a thick and broken voice. "Please, I can't"

 "Fine, stay here. I'll be right back" she said, exasperated at any delay in her overwhelming purpose. She ran up to the gate, hollering upwards to where she knew there would be a guard posted. "Get Bruce Banner down here right now!"

"For what?" Clint's head appeared at the top of the wall.

"Clint," she called out over a sob, "I swear to fucking god if you don't get him here right now I will kill you myself."

"Darcy, what’s....?" Clint started worriedly.

"Now!" she hollered back. And Clint disappeared. In less time that she would have thought possible, the gates were opening and Clint was standing there with Bruce, one arm under the other man's shoulder, obviously having sped him along.

"What the hell is going on," said Clint breathlessly.

Darcy didn't answer, just pulled them behind her to where she had left Steve. He was sitting now, braced upright against a tree, sweat beading on his pale forehead, blood pooling sluggishly under his side.

"Awww, shit" Clint exclaimed with feeling. "God fucking dammit Steve."

"Clint," Darcy cut in in exasperation. "It's been more than two hours. Bruce, how much do you know about the serum."

Bruce was looking down at Steve like he was a curious puzzle. Darcy was totally okay with emotionally detached Dr. Banner right now, so long as it meant he was going to solve this.

"Some," he said absently, swinging over to Steve and awkwardly bending to inspect the wound. "It's obviously slowed the infection. But it's also started healing the wound. The virus almost immediately destroys human healing factors. It shouldn't be healing at all, if the virus was winning." He straightened, an almost alarming look of feverish excitement in his eyes. "The serum is trying to push back the virus. I didn't think it could be done. The virology is so potent; I didn't think there was any way to get ahead of it."

"What the hell do you mean Banner," Clint cut in.

"I mean," said Bruce, "that I need to take some samples, run some tests. But Captain America might have just given us our first advantage in this war."

 "Will he..." Darcy asked hesitantly.

 "I don't know," said Bruce, almost absently. "Nothing to do but wait."

"Okay," said Darcy, settling herself beside Steve. "I'll be here."

"Clint, get her out of here," said Steve with a ragged breath, "it's not safe."

"I've got a gun," said Darcy firmly, "and if you think I wouldn't use it if I needed to, you really don’t know me very well."

Steve let out a rattling sigh and settled back against the tree. "I swear, if you let yourself get bit, I'll kill you," he muttered as Bruce drew a blood sample.

Darcy laughed weakly, "Got it," she said dryly as she settled down beside him.

"Darce," said Clint carefully, "what about the kids, do you want..."

"No," she cut him off, "We'll wait and see. I don't want them to know unless..." she trailed off.

Clint nodded, giving them an unreadable look as he followed Bruce back through the gate.

There was a long silence.

"Does it hurt?" Darcy finally asked quietly, barely audible over the sound of Steve's wheezing, rattling breath.

"Yes," said Steve in a tight, strained voice.

She reached over and grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly. "What can I do," she asked frantically.

"Just," he took a sharp breath, "distract me."

She went with the first thing that popped into her head.

"I tried to give Katy and Jack a sex talk yesterday" she blurted out.

"Tried?" said Steve with a hint of amusement crossing his face, just for a moment.

"They are entirely too practical for their own good," said Darcy. "They gave me entirely too much detail on what they were doing for fun that doesn't carry the risk of pregnancy."

"Oh," said Steve. "Is that a good....never mind. I don't want to get involved in that."

Darcy laughed. "Yeah, that was about my reaction as well."

"They're good kids," said Steve. "All of them." he paused. "I promised Ben and Danny and Eric I'd take them out on one of the trucks down to the lower fields tomorrow. Will you tell them I'm sorry?"

Darcy swallowed around the lump in her throat "You can tell them yourself when we get you back inside," she said firmly.

Steve looked like he was about to respond, but apparently thought the better of it.

"Okay," he said, and without comment he pulled her against his uninjured side until her head rested against his shoulder and she could feel his feverish heat pressed against her side.

They were quiet a lot of the time. It seemed stupid to talk about their friends or what trouble the kids were getting into right now. But talking about anything more serious felt like saying goodbye. And Darcy was damn well not going to do that yet.

So she stayed pressed against him as he grew quieter and quieter, his breathing more and more laboured. Clint was coming out at regular intervals to take samples for Bruce who was apparently feverishly at work in his lab.

Finally, after almost two hours, Steve's breathing grew so laboured that it was painful to hear. "Darce," he croaked out, "you have to leave. At least take a couple of steps. I think...I don't think I can."

"Steve," she didn't even try to hold back the sob that came out with his name, "You can't. Please."

"I'm sorry," he said weakly, "I just wish..." and then his eyes rolled back into his head and his breathing stopped and he slumped back against the tree.

+

+

She was waiting.

She wasn't an idiot, she was waiting five feet away with her gun loaded and trained on his forehead, but she was waiting.

And then he began to stir, and a pained moan escaped him.

Darcy shut her eyes, feeling tears welling behind her lids. It was hard to breath.

And she slid her finger over the trigger of her gun.

"Darcy?"

In a heartbeat she flung her eyes open, dropped her gun and threw herself to the ground beside him.

"Steve! You're alive, you're alive. Oh my god, you're alive." She felt like she couldn't grab hold of the moment, her hands were shaking and her eyes were skittering across him, his face, the wound in his side that had stopped bleeding now, his hands as they reached for her.

"I'm alive," he confirmed, steadying her with one hand against her cheek.

It wasn't a particularly well considered move, and she couldn't say that, even a second before, she'd been thinking about it, but it seemed kind of inevitable once it happened. She leaned forward, just an inch, and kissed him.

At first there was a surprised sort of tentativeness about it, but then his hands closed in her hair and he let out a fierce, desperate noise, and pulled her closer, tugging one leg across him so she was straddling his legs. She didn't care that his blood was starting to soak through her pants, she didn't care that his mouth tasted clammy and metallic. The only thing she could think of was getting closer to him, gripping his skin, refusing to ever let him leave her again.

The screech of the gate opening startled them apart.

Clint found them both standing by the tree. If he noticed the blood smeared on Darcy's pants and the flush in her cheeks, he didn't say anything about it.

"Steve?" he asked in a carefully hopeful tone.

"Chalk one more up for science," he said with a tired sort of half smile.

After that, there was a flurry of activity; Steve was immediately hustled off into the medical wing with no more than a tired and confused backwards glance at Darcy. She watched him go with a detached sort of shock.

Steve got bit. Steve was still alive anyways. She had kissed him.

What the hell was wrong with her?

She furiously tried to rationalise as she went back to her room to change, dropping her bloody and grimy clothes to the floor in a heap.

It had just been too long since she'd had any kind of romance in her life. She had been shoving down her hormones for too long. There was no denying that she and Steve were close. There was also no denying that he was attractive. It didn't have to mean anything. It was a tense situation. It wasn't like she'd been trying not to think about how good it felt to be wrapped in his arms when they had danced that night.

She checked the clock on the wall. Everyone would be just finishing dinner right now. She couldn't even think about eating, but she walked towards the mess hall. She tucked herself against the wall as people started spilling out of the mess into the hallway. Jack and Katy were first, and as soon as the rest saw the three of them standing in a huddled group, it wasn't long before all of the kids stopped to find out what was going on.

"Come on," Darcy said, "we're walking."

"Darce, you're kind of freaking me out," Jack said as the all moved away from the crowd.

"Everything's okay," she said as calmly as she could, "I promise." She stopped and turned to face them. "I'm going to tell you the second part of this first. The Captain is just fine. He's resting in the medical wing and is probably going to start annoying everyone until they let him leave very shortly."

 "What happened?" asked Katy sharply.

"We got surprised out on our drop today," she said carefully, "and the Captain got bit."

You could have heard a pin drop in the stunned silence.

"But...he's okay?" asked Ben cautiously. "Really?"

"Yeah, really," said Darcy with a slow smile. "He's Captain America, after all. He's pretty tough."

"The serum, it beat the virus?" Katy asked excitedly "Really?"

"Yes," said Darcy with a quizzical look, "how do you know about the serum?"

"I did occasionally show up to class Before," said Katy with a roll of her eyes. "Plus the library here has a ton of really in depth stuff on Cap. Kinda makes you want to excuse him for being so grumpy all the time," she shrugged.

Darcy raised an eyebrow, "Maybe." She smiled at them, "Now come on, let’s go see how he's doing, yeah?"

He still looked tired, but he smiled at the kids and answered their barrage of questions, and completely avoided looking at her.

All she could do was sit there and twist her hands together. She felt like she couldn't let out her breath until they all trooped out of there to head for bed.

Katy stopped her outside her door. "Darce, are you okay?"

"Fine Katy," she said automatically, “just tired.”

"Bullshit."

Darcy blinked at her.

"You may have let us off easy on this one, not telling us anything until he was okay. Which, by the way, what if he hadn't been okay? We never would have got a chance to say goodbye..." she cut herself off with a shake of her head. "Never mind. My point is that you were out there with him for hours, just waiting to see if he was going to die. Probably expecting it. It’s you Darcy, and it's the Captain. You can't tell me you're okay."

In that exact moment, Darcy realised in a very real way that her kids weren't really a burden anymore. Katy and Jack were nearly grown. The younger ones were thriving. They were a joy and a blessing and the best reward for all the pain and worry and fear she had gone through to get here.

And she didn't have to always be strong for them anymore. She choked over a sob.

"No, I'm not okay."

"Come on," Katy gently pushed her into her room, closing the door behind them. "Talk to me."

"I kissed him," Darcy blurted out suddenly.

Katy blinked at her in wide eyed shock.

"I thought he was dead. He was unconscious; I was standing there pointing my gun at him, ready to fire. And then he said my name. And I kissed him. I don't know why I...now I don't know what to do. I should be happy. Everything should just go back to normal. But I can't stop thinking about it. I can't even look at him."

Katy burst into laughter.

Darcy had to crack a grudging smile "You're a real help there," she muttered.

"Sorry, sorry," she said, catching her breath, "but the two of you are just winning the repressed Olympics or something."

"What?" Darcy blinked blankly.

"You remember when we were on the outside. And we were grabbed by those military guys?"

Darcy nodded stiffly.

"When you passed out on the way back, Cap was a wreck. He thought you were going to die, I think, after all he did to save you."

"Oh," Darcy said narrowly.

"He looked at me with this sort of horrible expression on his face and asked me to help him."

There was a long pause.

“You ever heard the Captain ask for help, Darce? For _anything_?”

“No,” said Darcy quietly.

“Just…think about it,” said Katy quietly as she slipped out of the room.

So Darcy thought about it.

She could hardly think about anything else.

But she couldn’t bring herself to go and visit him in the hospital wing, couldn’t seek him out when she heard he had been released. Couldn’t do much more than mechanically make her way through the day.

She thought, maybe, that she was in love with Steve. All the symptoms added up.

But the problem was what if that’s not what Steve wanted? He was a centre of stable reliability as it was. She didn’t know how she would manage if she upset that balance.

So she avoided him.

Her avoidance, though, proved to be remarkably unnecessary. She should have known, really. Sure, she wasn't particularly good at dealing with her emotions, but Steve Rogers made her look like an amateur.

"Hey," he greeted her with a false ease as they ran into each other in the hall on the way to a command meeting.

 "Steve," she said, momentarily surprised by the flat and distant look on his face. "Should you really be...I mean, how are you?"

"I'm fine," he said with a tight smile, "Hill wanted me here. Must be some news from Bruce."

But she saw the stiffness in the way he held himself and the tightening around his eyes as he sat.

She felt miserable. She felt miserable because she'd been avoiding her partner while he was trying to recover from an injury. And because she knew she was going to keep doing it so long as her heart kept trying to crawl up her throat every time she looked at him.

"Welcome back Captain," was the first thing Hill said once everyone had taken their seats, "we're all glad you're continuing your trend of failing to die in the face of certain death."

"Here here," called Clint loudly with a grin.

"Unfortunately," Hill corralled the meeting before anyone else could get a congratulatory word in, "you've put us one drop team down until you’re cleared for duty, and it's a really bad time for us to be short on manpower."

She pressed a button on the remote in her hand, bringing up the map of the surrounding area, the blues and greens and reds casting eerie shadows across her face.

"This was our situation last week," Hill said, and she clicked the button again, "here's where we are today."

A number of the far flung green zones winked out entirely and the circle of blue contracted significantly. What was most worrying is the vast red swatch encroaching in threads and whorls towards the Sanctuary.

"The herd," said Natasha bleakly.

"It's turned," said Hill with a nod, "and it's headed in our direction. You can see it’s already encroaching on the southern blue zone and made some of our green zones totally unfeasible as drops. The good news is it’s coming in bits and pieces. It'll never make it over the mountains intact."

"And the bad news?" one of the younger drop team members asked in a wary voice.

"It's bigger than it was before. Our best guess is that a herd from farther east made its way across and has linked up with the herd that got piled up just south of the mountains."

"So what's the plan," said Steve in a voice that sent a thrill down Darcy's spine, and not a pleasant one. It reminded her too much of the man that was going to leave her behind on the road, who had torn her up for being kind to scared ten year olds.

"Drop teams are being cut back," said Hill, "only high priority green zones, only absolutely necessary supplies in the greatest quantities we can manage. We're going to consolidate supplies behind the big walls, harvest as much as we can as early as we can from the fields. Prepare for a siege if it comes to that."

"You can't honestly expect us to just wait here to..." Darcy started indignantly.

"No," Hill interrupted her, "anyone who's not running drops is running the blue zone perimeter. We're taking the fight to them. The more we can kill out there, the fewer make it up here."

Darcy sat back with a huff. Most of these people hadn't spent very much time on the outside with those things. She wasn't sure Hill knew what she was asking of their people. She glanced over at Steve. He was looking at her with a frightening intensity.

"What about Banner," he said, slowly turning back to Hill, "what does he have?"

"He's got something," said Hill with a nod. "He's working as fast as he can, and he thinks he'll be ready to test it soon."

There was a buzz floating around the room, and Hill held up a hand to swiftly cut it off. "It's not a cure, not a vaccine," she said. "But it might be a weapon. This is strictly need to know. Only Banner, his people, and the people in this room need to know it, got it?"

They all nodded.

"Any questions before I hand out assignments?" Hill asked.

Darcy raised her hand, squinting at the map. "What's that red dot right down near the lower fields?" she asked. "There can't be anything that far into the blue zone?"

Hill looked at the map for a moment before making a note for herself, "Looks like a glitch to me," she said, "but I'll check it out."

+

+

The next day, just after lunch, Darcy was headed down to the motor pool to meet Steve. They were headed with another team to the far south of the blue zone to divide a manageable group off from the herd and take it out.

She was nervous.

And not just because of the assignment. Things were definitely not okay between her and Steve.

And the last time they had been out in the field together, he had almost died.

She caught sight of him from a few meters away and stopped. He hadn't seen her yet, and he was leaning against the side of a jeep, a hand wrapped protectively around his side. He looked so tired. And she couldn't help but thinking of the comfort she had felt, out on the road, pressed close to him in a tiny tent in the middle of the wilderness, but at least not feeling lonely.

Steve looked so alone.

She took a few steps towards him, and he looked up with a jerk. She opened her mouth to say something. To apologise for avoiding him maybe, or to yell at him for not telling anyone how hurt he was.

But she was cut off as the piercing shriek of the perimeter alarm cut through the air.

She immediately bolted the last few yards to the motor pool. Steve beat her there and handed her a rifle from the rack on the wall.

"Where?" she shouted to the young man sitting at the comm desk just inside the door.

"Lower fields," he shouted back over the din.

She froze, her hands rigid on the gun. "Steve," she barely breathed it, but she knew he heard her anyways.

His face was pale and drawn when he spoke. “Danny and Tess."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to end this one much sooner, and then nessismore and I did some gleeful cackling about changing the tags to warn for character death. But that would have meant one very short chapter and one very long chapter. So I evened them out. You can thank my inability to tolerate imbalance for the less painful cliffhanger :) 
> 
> Also, last chapter is DONE. Probably wont sit on it for too long, because I'm excited to get it out there. Thanks so much to Katertots, Merideath, and nessismore for their comments and help! A particular shout out to Meri for pointing out that maybe "hungry" isn't an appropriate sexy adjective in the context of zombie fic.... :)


	14. Unconquerable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Out of the night that covers me, Black as the Pit from pole to pole,   
> I thank whatever gods may be for my unconquerable soul.   
> In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud.  
> Under the bludgeonings of chance my head is bloody, but unbowed.  
> Beyond this place of wrath and tears looms but the Horror of the shade,   
> And yet the menace of the years finds, and shall find, me unafraid.   
> It matters not how strait the gate, how charged with punishments the scroll.   
> I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's it folks! I cannot tell you how awesome you all have been along the way. Your kudos and comments and all caps yelling at cliffhangers kept me writing :) Special thanks to Katertots and Merideath and Nessismore for thoughts and nitpicking and just generally putting up with how long I have been wibbling on about this thing.
> 
> And this is the part where I promise myself to stick to one shots for a while :) We shall see how long that lasts.

They both broke into a sprint. Even with his injuries, she knew he could outpace her. "Go, go," she shouted breathlessly at his questioning look, and he began to eat up ground with impossibly long strides until she couldn't see him around the corner of the switchback.

By the time she made it, it was all over.

Steve was standing in front of Danny and Tess, who had been down working in the fields, facing down Hill and one of her newest drop team recruits who were holding what looked like tranquilizer guns.

Slumped against a sagging section of fence were six or seven of the dead, unmoving.

"...because I'd like to hear just how in the hell you think you're going to explain this," Darcy heard Steve roar as she drew to a stop beside him.

"We needed to test it and we needed the bodies here for Banner," said Hill evenly, "No one was in danger, we've been tracking them and we knew how many there were and when they would get here. Even if Banner's drug hadn't worked, we would have taken them out."

"And would you have done it before they broke through the fence? Before any of the kids got tagged? You know as well as I do that this was not a zero risk scenario Hill," Steve was doing an admirable job of tearing Hill to pieces, and Darcy didn't think she would actually be able to restrain herself from physical violence once she had caught up with what was going on. So she just grabbed Tess and Danny's hands tightly in hers and confined herself to glaring bloody murder.

"It was an acceptable risk," said Hill, although her confidence seemed to be flagging in the face of the Captain's rage.

"An _acceptable risk_?" he bellowed, and "you didn't consult anyone. You _children_ down here in the field. You don't have to lure those things out HIll, they would have walked up to the fence even if there were a dozen trained agents with guns pointed at them in case you were wrong."

"I was trying to contain the information," said Hill. "I don't want anyone to know about the drug until we know what we can do with it."

"Fine," spat out Steve, "but did you need to conceal it from me? From Darcy?" He took a threatening step towards her, "when you were taking the risk with our _fucking family_ Hill."

He paused, taking a breath with a little hitch, his hand unconsciously twitching towards his side. Without thinking Darcy dropped the children's hands and moved to stand beside Steve, putting a gentle hand on his arm.

"It's my family," he repeated, but with more control.

Hill glanced over at Darcy, but she was not going to get any help. "You should have told us," said Darcy sharply. "It should have been us down here, not them."

Hill took a breath and then nodded. "You're right," she said finally, "I didn't need to go so far in concealing this."

"Okay," said Darcy, wrapping her hand around Steve's wrist firmly. "We'll discuss it later. Right now we've got to take care of the kids, and you've got some bodies to collect for Banner."

She tugged him gently "Come on Steve, help me."

Steve turned abruptly, swung Tess up onto his back, took Danny's hand, and started marching them up the path.

They were relieved of their assignment in the wake of the events of the afternoon, but Darcy just didn't feel like going back to keeping her distance from Steve once they had finished settling the kids later into to evening.

"Wait," she called out as he moved away from her with nothing more than a curt nod after leaving the kids sleeping in her bed.

He stopped, but didn't turn.

She took a cautious step towards him. She had no idea what she was going to say. Mostly because she had no idea how she wanted this to go. She felt like she was at a balance point, and on one side was things as they used to be and on the other was the way she had felt dancing with Steve, kissing him, when she knew he wasn't dead.

And the only thing she could think to do was hold her balance, so instead of taking about anything that really meant anything, all she said was "I don't have anywhere to sleep."

She knew perfectly well that there were a dozen empty rooms. He did too. And maybe he was just too tired to argue, or maybe he was okay with balancing for a little while too, because he half turned back towards her until she caught up, and wordlessly opened the door to his room, and held the sheet back for her so she could kick off her shoes and crawl under to rest against his uninjured side.

+

+

They were rudely awoken early the next morning with a call to the command centre. Darcy jerked with the suddenness of it, causing Steve to let out a low huff of pain.

At some point during the night, their legs had wound together and she was sprawled half across his torso, her hand rucked up under his t-shirt.

And she could see the angry red scar of the bite that almost killed him, livid against his otherwise untouched skin.

"Steve," she breathed out, half in apology for causing him pain and half in disbelief. She levered herself up on one hand and gently pressed the other beside the scar. "You shouldn't be going out there like this."

"It's fine," he said gruffly, unceremoniously pulling himself into a sitting position, forcing her to roll to the side.

"It's not fine," said Darcy in exasperation, "you don't always have to be fine you know."

Steve swung his legs of the bed and stood up abruptly, "Yeah?" he asked in a poisonous tone, "Well what's it to you?"

She froze for a moment at the sting of it, even though she knew she probably deserved worse.

She watched Steve's shoulders drop. "That's not what I...." he started, then sighed, "We have to get to command," he finally finished, pulling on a pair of boots and a jacket.

She wordlessly followed him out the door and didn't try to keep up as he strode ahead of her. She chose a seat well down the table from him when she made it, pulling nervously at the inside of her lips with her teeth.

She couldn't help feeling that she had really royally screwed this whole thing up. She wished that Jane was still here to talk to. But even Katy had been unreachable, buried in Banner's makeshift lab.

"I won't bother with the pre-amble," said Hill abruptly as she strode in, followed by Banner himself, "Dr. Banner has some good news for us."

A roomful of expectant faces turned towards Bruce who, despite what must have been a number of sleepless nights, looked better than Darcy remembered, cleared his throat and began to talk.

"We've successfully tested a drug that we're calling Thanatos against the walkers. It acts by destroying the vector used by the plague virus to re-animate its victims. Simply put, it kills the walking dead."

There was a low murmur that ran around the room.

"Thanatos," Natasha said in a low voice, "death itself."

Bruce nodded at her with a wry twist to his lips, "We thought it was fitting. Right now it’s inefficient," he went on, "the only way to deliver it is internally, so it’s only marginally more effective than bullets, doesn't matter where you hit the things with a dart of this stuff, they'll go down. So we'll start by equipping you all with dart guns and inoculating the population here."

"Why give it to anyone here?" asked Clint, "is it a vaccine?"

"No," said Bruce, "but it will stop anyone who's been bit from coming back and will kill whatever bites them."

"It'll stop the outbreaks," came another wondering voice from down the table, "my god, imagine if we could have inoculated the big cities before..."

"No good in looking back now," Steve's voice cut across the crowd. "Banner," he turned back to the older man, "what do you mean you'll start with this, what's the end game?"

"Your girl Katy's idea actually," said Banner, "it's got to be transmitted by blood, and that's all those damn things are after anyways, so we're gonna feed it to the bastards." There was a wild sort of glee in his eyes, "We've got a few ideas, an aerosolised plasma substitute that will draw their scent, stock animals injected with enough human platelets that they'll bite. We've still got to work out the best delivery mechanism, but we'll get there."

Darcy sucked in a sharp breath, "You think you can take down the herd, don't you?" she asked.

"Yes," he said simply.

"We're going to test it on the group closest to the southern blue zones as soon as we get the chance," said Hill. "There's no guarantees, but we're going to keep you all informed." She looked steadily at Steve, "I'll be making a public announcement about the herd and Thanatos later today."

He nodded back at her, and she could see the tension between them ratcheting down a notch.

"That's all we have for now," Hill went on, "we're going to keep preparing for siege and taking out however many we can so long as the herd is still coming at us. But you all deserved to know this, because if this works, if we can take down this herd, clear that much land with reliability, and prevent the mass outbreaks, there's nothing stopping us from moving out of here. Taking some things back."

+

+

There was a buzz of energy and excitement throughout the Sanctuary in the wake of Hill's announcement. Morale was high, people were focused, everyone was starting to think about the long term, but all Darcy could think about was Steve.

There was a sort of hopeful dread coursing through her as their next mission drew closer. He was studiously elsewhere whenever he could be, but they would be alone, out tracking a group of a dozen or so walkers in the southern blue zone with Bruce’s new darts. They’d have to talk.

Except that when she showed up for briefing, Steve was still elsewhere, and Clint was strapping the dart gun to his thigh.

“So,” he said as they rumbled south in a jeep, “you’ve managed to fuck things up with Rogers again have you?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said flatly, “movement on the scanners just a mile up.”

“Don’t care,” he said, even as they pulled to a stop to approach the walkers on foot. “Cuz Nat has something over Hill that means she gets the good missions, which means _I_ get the good missions, unless I’m stuck with you because you’ve got Cap’s panties in a twist.”

Her next step squelched loudly.

“See,” said Clint with a broad gesture at the muddy field and the group of walkers on the other side, “not a good mission.”

She started trudging despondently forward through the mud. “I kissed him,” she finally said, “will you shut up now?”

“Not even _close_ ,” said Clint gleefully, “so how come you two aren’t attached at the mouth right now…” he gave her a leer, “or at the…” she wacked him on the arm before he could finish.

“Because I’ve been avoiding him,” she said, lining up her first shot with the dart gun as they got in range.

The darts really were a step up from guns and close combat weapons. They managed to take down the whole group before the worst of the smell even hit them.

“So,” Clint said as they trudged back through the mud towards the jeep, “you’ve realised that you don’t want to be kissing the Cap and it got awkward?”

“No,” she said.

“So you’ve just been ignoring the guy who almost died for no good reason then? You _do_ know you’re the only one he ever looks to for, like, feelings and stuff right?” Clint raised an eyebrow at her.

“Not for no reason…I just…” she shrugged dejectedly, “what if he doesn’t want me like that.”

Clint scoffed, Darcy glared at him.

“Or what if it’s just convenience or because of the kids. And what if it blows up in our faces and…”

Clint stopped her rant with a hand on her shoulder.

“I get it, it’s terrifying,” he said. “That petrified look on your face reminds me a lot of me. I get that it’s shitty trying to figure out how to be in love with someone in the middle of a war zone. But trust me on this one, you gotta talk to him about it.”

Darcy blew out a breath, “You think that’s really going to go well?”

Clint shrugged, “The first time I tried it, Nat shot me in the leg, so it’s probably going to go better than that.”

Darcy managed a grin. “Really? What did you _say_?”

“Well I might have been a bit…overly blunt, and there were other reasons, we needed to get into this hospital in Budapest and…” Clint waived around an expressive hand, “I’m just saying, I don’t think Cap’s going to shoot you, and it might go better than you think, okay?”

“Okay,” said Darcy, “but I’m not doing _anything_ until I get a damn shower.”

+

+

Halfway through her shower, she had convinced herself she should really sleep on it, maybe talk to Steve tomorrow.

She wasn’t proud of it. It wasn’t even particularly helpful, because he knew how to find her when he wanted. And apparently Steve had had enough of whatever it was they were doing, whether she liked it or not.

The door to the bathroom opened with a creak.

“Occupied,” she called out from behind the shower stall, even as she shut off the water and wrapped herself in a towel.

“I’ll wait,” came Steve’s stony voice.

Her stomach lurched. But there was only so long she could take drying herself off and pulling on sweatpants and a top. Eventually, she had to walk out of the stall the face him.

He was leaning against the wall next to the mirror, looking anywhere but at her. The room was almost oppressively hot and still filled with steam.

She shivered anyways.

“You’re avoiding me,” he said.

She nodded, it hadn’t really been a question.

“I’m really angry that you’re avoiding me,” he said, his voice taut and harsh.

She turned to look at him then, with an arched eyebrow, “Well you haven’t exactly been _talkative_ ,” she cut out. “And what about the other night? I was _there_ and you had nothing to say.”

Steve let out a derisive snort, “You were _there_ ,” he repeated, “just like you were _there_ out on the road whenever you needed a guard dog or a security blanket or whatever the hell it is that I am to you. None of that ever led to anything either.”

“That’s not fair,” Darcy balled up her fists beside her.

“I almost died.” He fairly hurled the words at her. As if she didn’t know. As if she didn’t… “I thought I was _gone_ and then we…” he trailed off, running a hand through his hair. “I almost died, and I feel like it would have been easier than losing you.”

Her heartbeat was skittering around wildly. She didn’t think she had felt this out to sea since that first moment, in that dark penthouse apartment surrounded by ten scared kids, when she realised that nothing was ever going to be the same again.

She took a deep breath.

And she forced herself to acknowledge that she had come through that okay. So she could come through this. Because as much as she knew Steve was being earnest, that he would take everything back for her if she wanted him to, she also knew there was no going back.

The world was never going to be the same again.

And maybe that meant that she wasn’t going to be able to separate how she knew Steve could be good for her from the fact that she knew Steve was _already_ good for the kids. Or maybe Steve wasn’t going to be able to separate what he felt for her and what he felt for her kids. And maybe that was okay. Maybe that was even _right_.

Because this feeling, this distance between them, and the coldness in his eyes. There was no way that was _right_.

“I’m so….” she swallowed to steady herself. “I’m so glad that you’re alive Steve.”

As if that was all he had wanted to hear, he closed the gap between them in two sweeping strides and pulled her against his chest, her damp hair soaking through his shirt.

“Are you mad at me?” he finally asked roughly.

“What?” her voice was strangely muffled against his chest, but she didn’t want to move, “No, of course not. Why would I be mad?”

“Oh…I just thought…maybe, because I got a bit carried away with…and maybe you didn’t want…”

“Steve,” she pulled back and put a hand on his cheek, “shut up.”

This time, there was no urgency, no surprise, just a sort of inevitable certainty when their lips met. It was brief and simple and so much more important than the urgency she had felt outside the gate.

“Oh,” said Steve, when they parted.

“Oh,” she repeated with a hint of a smile.

“Then why have you been…” he started, then apparently thinking the better of it, his hand fisted in her hair and he bent his lips to her again, pressing her back against the cold tile of the wall.

She thought, maybe, the end of the world could be forgotten for a moment in the way that his hand clutched at her hip and the way there was nothing polite or careful or reserved about the way he was kissing her, teeth knocking together and bruised lips and messy breaths.

She finally pulled back and inhaled sharply.

“I was scared,” she said.

“You?” he asked immediately, unthinkingly.

“Have you forgotten already, how terrified I was when we met?” she asked.

“No,” said Steve, “but I also remember how you willingly jumped into the middle of a horde of zombies to save my life, and how you risked your life again and again for the kids. What’s there to be scared of about me?”

Darcy blew out a short laugh.

“What if,” she drew a breath, “what if I told you how I…what I wanted…and then you said no? Or worse, what if you said yes out of obligation or guilt, or because of the ki…” she didn’t get to finish her rambling train of thought.

She wondered sort of absently how she and Steve had gone so long without kissing each other. They were obviously very good at it. Far better than they were at talking, but there were things that needed to be said.

“How could you possibly….” Steve trailed off, tucking her hair behind her ear with a focus she recognised from a fight. “I’m not good at….I never knew the right thing to say, even before. It’s worse now...I thought I knew what the worst things in the world felt like…but I…” he paused, looking away from her. “For a long time, I thought that everything was _over_ you know? But it’s not overfor me anymore. Sometimes I…god, most of the time, Darcy, I feel like… _you_ were worth the apocalypse.” He looked back up at her. “I know it’s terrible to even think it, but I can’t…”

She cut him off with a hand against his lips, “Do you think,” she asked slowly, “that if we had met Before, without end of the world, without the kids, that you would still…”

“I don’t know,” he said after a moment. “I wasn’t the same person Before. I doubt you were the same person. Does it really matter?”

“No,” she said, a slow smile growing across her face from somewhere deep inside her, “you really mean it don’t you? It’s not just because I’m here.”

“What?” he looked at her in wide eyed surprise, “did you honestly think that I just…Darce, I tried so hard not to…and then I thought that maybe you and Clint…”

“Clint?” Darcy asked incredulously, “seriously? You thought that…” she let out a surprised sort of laugh.

“You laughin’ at me?” Steve asked, a hint of humor creeping into the corner of his eyes.

“Maybe a little,” she said, reaching out to wrap her hand around his forearm, just because she could, “Natasha would kick my _ass_ ,” she continued with a grin, “besides, Barton’s not exactly…”

“I don’t want to talk about Barton,” Steve cut her off with a low and dangerous grin that sent a thrill down her spine.

“No?” asked Darcy, “because I could have sworn that just a second ago you were saying that…”

“Is this how it’s going to be?” asked Steve, pressing her back against the wall, “you gonna be riding me like this?”

“Probably,” said Darcy with a grin, “you know how I get all riled up when you try to take charge.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Steve against the skin of her jaw, “it must be so hard for you to…” he cut off of with choked sort of groaning noise as she pressed her hips up against him.

“You know, you two are _real_ lucky that I was the first one who decided to pick the lock,” Natasha’s voice cut across the room from the door, and they jumped apart.

“Natasha,” said Steve stiffly, “I was just…”

“Oh can it Captain,” said Tasha with a positively jovial grin, “just get the hell out of here and don’t let it happen again.”

Darcy tossed her an ironic little salute and pulled Steve quickly out of the room.

He gripped her hand as they walked through the halls back towards her bedroom, the giddy fervor of a moment ago fading into something else. They were quiet until she had pulled him into her room and closed the door behind them.

There was a still moment, Steve standing stiffly by the door as she sunk down onto her bed. “You said,” she started slowly, “you said that you tried not to...”

He nodded, looking at her steadily.

“ _Why_?”

He blew out a breath. “Because I thought it would be easier,” he said finally, “Maybe out on the road I though…but it was _different_ here and I was worried…probably for the same reasons you’ve been avoiding me for the last few days when all I wanted was…”

She pushed herself off the bed and over to him before he could finish, taking one hand in hers.

“Can we…can we maybe both admit we’ve been idiots about this and give each other a pass because…you know…apocalypse?” she looked up at him with a hopeful sort of grin.

The corner of his mouth quirked up. “Square deal.” He said.

“But, just so you know,” she squared her shoulders. “I don’t want a pass anymore. And I don’t want to make any more excuses. I figure those damn walkers have taken enough from us already, and I….”

“Darcy,” Steve interrupted her, his hands falling to her waist, “shut up.”

The way he was looking at her was terrifying and thrilling and she felt nervous words pouring out of her mouth, “You know, I’m not going to start taking order from you just because mpphhphph.”

He stopped her, his hands in her hair, his mouth pressing against hers until her lips parted for him.

“I know,” he said breathlessly after a moment, “wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“So,” she said, taking a shaking breath, “I mean, I know we’ve kind of made a habit of never really saying anything but you know that I….that this isn’t just…I mean…”

Steve smiled at her, something loose and relaxed and _certain_ in his expression that made all the words and worries clambering around in the back of her head fall silent.

“I know,” he said simply. “Me too.”

She had always known that Steve was strong, had relied on it so many times in the past, but it was something different to be held up by that strength, lifted as if she was something delicate and breakable, but pressed against the wall with a thud and a gasp because he knew that she was strong too.

Her mouth was swollen and her breath coming short when he broke away from her to run his teeth against her collar bone. Her hands fisted in his shirt with a cry as one hand found its way under her top, skating across her ribs and brushing across her breast.

It had been so long since someone put their hand on her with passion, with that kind of focus and attention. Still, she _knew_ that it was because it was _his_ hand, because it was _his_ breath hot against her neck, that there was no holding back.

But he was being so god damned careful, his hips pressed into hers but refusing to move, hands brushing and testing but never landing.

“Steve,” she breathed out, “I swear to god if you’re trying to take it slow with me, I will _end_ you.”

He laughed against her shoulder, “Yeah, heaven forbid I try to treat you with….” Darcy cut him off by yanking his shirt over his head.

“Less talking,” she said, wrapping her hand around his neck and pulling his mouth down on hers, her teeth skimming his lips as she pushed herself away from the wall, unwound her legs from around his waist, and pulled him towards the bed.

“Did you ever,” he said, even as he rucked her shirt up around her ribs, “consider that maybe I was taking it slow for _me_ , maybe I want to remember…”

“There’ll be time for slow later,” said Darcy, obligingly pulling her top off, leaving her bare from the waist up.

But Steve was looking at her face. She was almost offended. “There is gonna be time, isn’t there,” he said slowly.

She got it, she really did. The both of them had spent so long behaving like there was no point in any permanence, like the most likely future was going to be bleak and full of loss, that it was kind of a revelation to be looking forward and seeing good things.

“All the time you want,” she said, laying a hand against his neck, “all the time you _have_.”

He grinned down at her, “That was really sappy,” he said, bending to kiss her cheekbone.

“ _I’m_ sappy?” she said with a laughing huff, “you’re the one looking at my face when I just took my shirt off.”

“You got a point,” he said, with a sharp downward glance. “I’ll do better.”

She was smiling as he bent to scrape his teeth over the soft skin of her breasts, but she gasped as his lips closed around one hard nipple, arcing up towards him.

It wasn’t practiced or careful, but when he finally slid into her, bending his head to her breast with a harsh exhale, and when she canted her hips against him, urging him to _move,_ it was perfect.

He wasn’t careful anymore as his fingers dug into her skin, there was nothing careful about the expression on his face when he spilled himself inside her, or the way she cried out his name as she fluttered around him.

But he was careful when he drew her close against his chest, his chin tucked against her hair, and she was careful when she wrapped her arm around his waist, letting her eyes drift shut, because they knew all the important things now, and any more words could wait until tomorrow.

+

+

The light was filtering weekly through the small barred window of her room when she woke up. She was gloriously warm, which was uncommon in the high mountain chill of the Sanctuary. Of course, it wasn’t exactly common for her to wake up pressed against Steve’s broad, bare chest.

She could get used to it.

“’morning,” he rumbled at her, sleep tousled hair catching the morning light. “sleep okay?”

“mmm, yeah,” she said, stretching just to enjoy the unaccustomed but not unpleasant aches.

She started talking before she could process it, “I was thinking, you know, I know it doesn’t mean much anymore, but maybe we should do something…official. Not right now, maybe, but eventually.”

Steve glanced up at her, bemused and sleepy, “Like what? An announcement?” He grinned a bit roguishly. “Actually I’d be okay with that. I wouldn’t mind everyone knowing. It’d be a real feather in my cap.”

She swatted him in the side absently, “No, you doofus, like get married.”

There was a deep and still pause while the words settled between them.

And then, after a moment, Steve said calmly, “Well, we do have those seven children that we should probably legitimize.”

Darcy laughed, and then pushed herself up on her arms so she could kiss him properly.

Because maybe there was a long road ahead of them, and maybe they would never live to see the end of this, but she was sure and certain now that it was a road worth walking, because she knew she wouldn’t be walking it alone.


End file.
